Drunk on You
by FruitatiousMaximus
Summary: An extremely expansive JeanMarco roleplay between my friend and myself. It's a modern day AU that takes place in Seattle, Washington. Marco's roommate has recently moved out and he finds his apartment a little lonely so Jean, tired of being mistreated by his landlord, contacts him. Contains straight couples in the beginning but that will change. Full-summary and warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1: Fliers and Phones

Hello everyone and welcome to Chapter 1 of Drunk on You.

Full summary: Drunk on You is a modern day alternate universe that takes place in Seattle, Washington. Marco's old roommate has recently moved out and he has begun finding his apartment lonely, thus, he posts fliers around the streets of Seattle, advertising that his apartment is open for a second renter. Jean, who has grown tired of the bullshit his landlord has been putting him through for nearly 6 years, sees the fliers and takes interest. After Jean and Marco discuss Jean becoming the new renter, Jean moves in and they find themselves gradually becoming more and more inexplicably attracted to each other as time passes. They feel conflicted however, because both of them have girlfriends. Destiny seems to have put these two couples together for a reason, because when Yumir, Jean's girlfriend, meets Marco's girlfriend, Krista, sparks begin to fly and there is immediate attraction.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin, nor do I own any of the characters featured in this work of fiction. Neither my role-play partner nor I are gaining any sort of profit from this.

Warning: May contain inappropriate language, sexual themes, alcohol usage, mentions of violence, potentially triggering subjects, and very very bad puns. Rating may be subject to change in the future.

Chapter 1 has been beta-read, edited, and revised. Mostly minor updates have been made.

* * *

_Saturday. The 19th of October._

It had taken several hours and two and a half rolls of tape, but almost every single telephone pole in Seattle had one of his flyers taped to it. It had been a little over three months since his last roommate had moved out to live closer to home, and Marco Bodt needed a new one. Not just for rent money, but also for company and help with groceries. All of his friends from work already had their own places and/or roommates, and none of them had any suggestions.  
So, he'd resorted to his expert flyer-making skills and added a phone number, his address, and a list of qualifications. He didn't have many, but he did add "must not be a convicted criminal" - just in case - and he would be checking. Once he'd gotten back to his apartment, he tossed the empty tape rolls on the couch and pulled out his phone from his back pocket and turned the volume up. It was unlikely that anyone would call today, but it was just a matter of time. Until a potential roommate called, Marco decided he would be perfectly content with reading in his comfy armchair.

Jean's nose hurt and there was no way around it, he knew that, but that sure as hell didn't stop him from taking his frustration out on anyone that dared to look at his bloody and bruising face. It didn't make him feel better, but at least it kept others away from him and a little space was what he needed right now. Or at least, a new space. He'd grown tired of his current life, he decided. Running with the 'wrong' crowd, pulling shady back door deals, working a dead end job, getting the snot beat out of him if he was late with even one singular fucking penny of his rent. Enough.  
Jean pulled the dingy blue sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and scrubbed at the dried blood trailing from his purpling nose. Thankfully, he was only missing half-a-hundred from his rent this month, so his landlord socked him once in the nose, lectured him, and called it quits for the day. It's not like his apartment is even worth the full rent considering it's an absolute piece of crap that's basically falling to shambles, not to mention most of his neighbors are addicts of some sort. Drug addicts, alcoholics, sex addicts, you name it, his apartment complex has it.  
Jean's thoughts stopped momentarily as he heard a couple of outrageously dressed women, probably prostitutes, giggling at a flyer taped to a nearby telephone pole.  
" 'Must not be a convicted criminal' Hah! That poor guy is gonna have a hard time trying to find someone like that in downtown Seattle!"  
"Oh Lita, honey, maybe we should call the poor boy and tell him..."  
"Patty, please, if he wants to put himself in danger just so he can have a renter for his apartment, then let him. It's not any of our business."  
The two women trailed off, absent-mindedly chattering about the flyer that was currently flapping in the strong ocean breeze. Jean's curiosity got the better of him, so he walked up to the pole and tugged the flyer from the dark wood. Giving it a quick once over, he scanned the list of qualifications, applied them to himself and nodded slowly, a bit surprised. Really? Is this guy trying to get himself killed? He even put out his address. Jean sighed. It was a pretty good deal though... It's in downtown Seattle, near University Village, so it's not in a shady area. The rent is okay, a bit steep for Jean considering he's just a simple part-timer at Starbucks, but he could do it. Plus, it's a good way for him to get a bit of a new start. He procured his ancient flip-phone from the pocket of his hoodie and dialed the number on the piece of paper he held in his hand.

A few hours passed and no one called. Marco had quickly gotten bored of reading and, given the hour, decided to get up and make dinner. It was a little late for someone to call anyway.  
That morning, Marco had taken out a chicken breast just in case he was in the mood to make dinner. Luckily, he was. Just like always. Halfway through making his (totally famous) chicken parmesan, his phone buzzed and rang in his back pocket. He practically jumped with excitement (and surprise, obviously). He took the pan off of the burner and answered his phone midway through the third ring.  
"Hello? Are you calling about the flyers?" He could hardly contain the excitement in his voice. Meeting a new person was just so exciting to him, and maybe they knew how to cook!

After he dialed the number and pressed the call button, Jean leaned up against the brick walls of his crumbling old building and stationed his flip-phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing up his hands so that he could gingerly touch his nose, testing it if it was broken or not. A small 'click' on the end of the other line alerted Jean that someone had picked up. "'Hello? Are you calling about the fliers?'" Jean winced as he accidentally prodded at his nose too hard.  
"Ow.. um yeah, I guess I am." He was a little bit unsure of what to say... Maybe he should chat with this guy a little bit? Judging from the cheerful tone in his voice, he didn't sound like such a bad guy.  
"Uh, yeah, my name is Jean Kirschstein." He paused and swallowed for a second. Might as well get straight to business.  
"According to this flyer you posted, I fit all of your qualifications and uh, I'm not even a convicted criminal." He laughed weakly. Damn it, he was so nervous. Would it be obvious that he lied a little bit there? I mean, he's not convicted, but he has done some things that he isn't proud of... "Anyway, I'm interested in becoming a renter for that apartment..." Crap. What else should he say? Jean didn't know. One of his hands gripped his phone while the other fiddled with a loose thread on his hoodie.

Marco pressed the speaker button and set his phone on the counter. He put the pan back on the burner and continued to cook. Jean had a nice voice, not too unkind. "Well Mr. Jean Kirschstein, I didn't expect someone to call today. I'm actually making dinner, would you like to join me and check out the apartment? I have two bedrooms but only one bathroom, a pretty decent living room and a very nice kitchen slash dining room. Oh! And there's this cool little patio that branches off from the living room that you will probably love. Oh, and if you're a smoker, no smoking in the house. Only on the patio. But I'm getting a little ahead of myself, sorry!" He laughed a little, scratching his cheek with his free hand. "So yeah, you have my address. If you're free, come on over and we'll talk rent over dinner. Sound good?"

Jean looked back at the address on the sheet. If he was lucky he could catch the 70 and bus 8 and get there in about 30 minutes, but that's only if he runs his ass over there right now. He hopped off of the wall and started making his way towards the bus stop, just a few steps down his street. He probably had enough cash on his Orca card to get him there.  
"Yeah that sounds great! I can probably get there in about 30 or 45 minutes... That's not too late is it? I don't have a car so I've got to take a couple of buses." Just as Jean said this, bus 8 pulled around the corner and stopped in front on Jean. It was obvious that this was one of the older buses when the brakes squeaked and the door rattled open. Jean plopped down in one of the handicap seats. The bus was basically empty with Jean, the bus driver, and a scruffy looking man sitting towards the back.

Marco raised his eyebrows as he listened to the sounds of the city. Background noises in phone calls were his favorite. You could always tell what was happening if you listened closely. It was easy to figure it out by the squeaking brakes that Jean had just gotten on a bus, and the quick sound of feet meeting plastic then a loud thud told him that Jean had just sat down. "I'm assuming you're free then! I'll put the chicken on simmer and cook the pasta in a little over half an hour, and it should be ready by the time you get here. Don't rush though, it's fine if we eat a little late. What do you drink?"

Jean fluffed his hair and coerced a couple of lose, blonde strands to sit in their rightful places upon his head. He let out a quick huff of air and sighed lightly. "Uh, I drink basically anything as long as it's safe for consumption. Poison of choice tends to be imported beer but if you don't have that, then anything is fine" He's not picky when it comes to liquids, foods how ever, it's quite the opposite. All he knew was that this guy was making chicken and pasta and that sounded good to him. Wait a sec... he never got his name. "Ah shit, um, sorry what did you say your name was?" Jean rubbed at the bruise on the bridge of his nose. Holding a conversation isn't easy...

Imported beer? Was that fancy or just the opposite? Marco wasn't big on beer, so he wasn't 100% sure. His face went a little pink once Jean mentioned his name, or the lack of mentioning it. "Oh, sorry! I got a little carried away. I'm Marco Bodt. I don't think I have any... Imported beer? I have red wine, I think I used to have some kinda Italian soda aaand... pepsi throwback. Y'know with real sugar? Oh, and water. Obviously." He'd been rummaging through the fridge, phone in hand, while searching for something they both might like. Of course, he had no idea what Jean liked.

Jean pulled the yellow cord laced along the windows, requesting his stop, and stood up. A robotic voice in the background called out about how the bus had reached Denny Way and next was Broad Street. "Marco, huh? That's a nice name." He accidentally said out loud. Jesus Christ, he hoped he didn't sound like a creep. "Uh, I mean, It's not one that you hear often..." He trailed off pathetically as he made his way downtown, walking fast, people passed and he was bus bound. "Ah, that sounds good, I'll drink pretty much anything, it's just that beer imported from Belgium or Germany happens to be a preference. American beer is pretty boring as far as taste goes. But uh, like I said, anything is good!" He chuckled a bit nervously as he stepped up onto bus 70, swiping his Orca card at the front machine, and sitting down yet again. 'Wow, way to go Jean, great first impression.' He thought to himself.

Marco grinned, covering his mouth with his hand a bit. He cleared his throat and and set his phone on the counter, putting a pot of water on another burner to boil. "Well, I think tonight has the potential to be worthy of celebration. Maybe just water for dinner, and if you pass, I'll get the wine out. Does that sound okay?" He got down two cups and, while the pot started to boil, he took out silverware and places and started to set the table. He hadn't had a dinner guest in a while. It was all a little exciting. While the food continued to cook, he did a last minute check and cleaned up around the apartment. Of course, since his last roommate moved out, his apartment was almost always neat and tidy. In other words, boring.

Jean laughed a little bit. "Heheh, yeah that sounds perfect. I just I hope I'll pass." He'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited for this. He couldn't even remember that last time he had sat down and eaten a real dinner made by an actual person that wasn't some dumb grunt making minimum wage. "I've got about 15 minutes or so before I get there, so I'll see you then." He found himself grinning stupidly as he hung up, his smile lingering while he stared at his phone. This Marco guy didn't sound half bad, plus he'd finally be out of the hair of his landlord. 'Oh shit... my landlord...' Jean dreaded the thought of what his landlord will do when he gets told that Jean is moving out. The extra $50 from last months rent is no big, but he'd heard rumors about the people that moved out. They were probably just rumors but he wouldn't put it past his landlord to do things like beating them half to death, trashing their new houses, or even making them lose their jobs. A couple of tenants at his old apartments heard that the landlord was in a gang or was part of the mafia or something equally threatening. Oh well, Jean figured he could deal with it later. He just hoped Marco wouldn't judge him too much because of his broken nose...

Marco mumbled a quick "see you in a bit," and locked his phone. Give or take an hour and he could have a new roommate. The possibilities were endless; what did Jean do for a living? What did he look like? Did he cook? That was the biggest question. Would he clean up after himself? He sure hoped so. He finished up the chicken parmesan once he returned to the kitchen, then finished setting up the table. He grabbed the glasses off of the counter and filled them with ice and water from the fridge, then set them on the table and clapped his hands together once. Everything was set and all that was missing was his guest. If it all worked out, he would probably have to go to all of the places he'd taped flyers and take them down. But he was getting a little ahead of himself. It was a big "if", and dinner going well never decided much of anything. Anything related to being roommates, anyway.

Jean hopped out of the bus and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. He walked down Eastlake Ave and turned left onto Garfield Street. Thankfully, a bus stop was only about 7 minutes away from this apartment, and it was actually within walking distance of the Starbucks he worked at. By walking distance he meant 30 minutes of going down hills wasn't all that bad. For sure he would taking the bus back to the apartments if, and when, he moved in. Jean sighed. He was getting ahead of himself again. 'If' is such an evil word. He trudged along the sparsely populated sidewalk of Garfield and began fiddling with his probably broken nose again. He stopped momentarily to check his reflection in the window of a parked car. It wasn't crooked, at least, but it was pretty noticeably bruised. He shrugged and hoped Marco wasn't picky about appearances or about people that get into fights every once in a while. He stopped in his tracks when he arrived at the apartment complex. It actually looked like a pretty nice place. Way better then his current house. He let out a quick sigh and walked up to the door the paper had indicated belonged to Marco. He knocked, quiet at first, but the next two knocks became solid as he regained his confidence.

Marco cleaned up in the kitchen, putting everything he'd used in the dishwasher. He always made a little bit of a mess when he cooked, mostly because he was a tad forgetful with what he needed. Most of the time, he would take out a dish and forget if he used it or not. He would wash it anyway, just in case. He had just put dishwasher soap in the machine when his guest knocked on the door. He shut the dishwasher door and put the soap container back under the sink, then entered the hall and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was Jean's hair, blonde on top and brown on the bottom. Interesting. The second thing he noticed was his nose. It looked painful, and he couldn't have suppressed a grimace even if he had tried.

Jean smiled nervously "Ahah... Sorry for my face at this moment. It's not exactly the prettiest thing, I know, but um..." Jean stuck his hand out, waiting for the brunette male before him to shake it. "I'm Jean Kirschstein." Surprisingly he didn't really have to fake a smile, a small grin naturally plagued his lips. Marco had a pleasant feel about him. It was probably because he seemed like such a gentle guy, which is a tad odd considering he's pretty tall. 'It's the freckles.' Jean decided. 'The freckles definitely make him seem less intimidating.'

Marco shook his head and took Jean's hand firmly, shaking it once before releasing. "No, I didn't mean to offend you or anything! It just looks a little... bad. Do you want something for it? I have some Aleeve in my bathroom, or ice maybe? Both?" He looked behind him, then stepped aside to let Jean in. That probably should've been the first thing he'd done. Aside from introducing himself, but he'd already done that and it seemed a little silly to do it again. Unless it was polite? His mouth was set in a slight frown, though more out of concern than anything. "You must've gotten clocked pretty hard... But anyway, come in and I'll get you something for it. Make yourself at home."

Jean chuckled. "Yeah I guess you could say I did. It's not as bad as it looks though so I don't think ice or Aleve will be necessary, but thanks for offering." He lied as he stepped inside. In all honesty it hurt like hell, but he didn't know this guy well enough to trust him with medication of any sort. He looked down at his dirty tennis shoes and thought it would be best to not wear them inside. "Make myself at home? I like the sound of that." He accidentally said out loud as he was removing his shoes. 'Good job, Jean. Let's just say whatever we possibly can to make this guy uncomfortable.' He let out a little smidge of nervous laughter.

Marco snickered and shut the door once Jean stepped in, then followed Jean's lead and looked at both of their feet. He'd forgotten he was wearing slippers, but he shrugged. It didn't matter, it wasn't a fancy dinner or anything, so what's the wrong with dirty shoes and slippers so long as they're comfy? "If you say so. If you change your mind though, let me know." He offered Jean a smile and stepped into the living room, expecting him to follow. "Dinner first, I'm assuming? Or a quick tour? I always think it's better to get to work after eating, but most people advice against it and say it makes you sleepy. So I'm leaving that choice up to you."

"I think either way works. I mean, it'd be a shame to let the food get cold or something like that, so the tour can wait." Jean tried to reassure himself and Marco by putting a smile on his face, though it probably just made him look like he was really uncomfortable, so he gave that up at once. He let out a sigh a glanced around the place. It was really nice... and clean. Exceptionally well-kept. Jean could definitely see himself living here in the future. All future-visions aside, his stomach was beginning to complain. Food now, drool over awesome house later, figure out how to move out much MUCH later.

"You have a pretty good point. Bon appétit." He motioned to the dining room table and sat down, propping his elbows up on the table and resting his head in his palms. He glanced at Jean, then at the chair across from him. "So business now, play later? I do kinda need to interview you, but I don't really know what to ask if I'm being honest." He shrugged, one leg crossed over the other under the table. He'd had a mental list prepared, but he had gotten a little too caught up in the moment as soon as someone actually answered his flyer.

Jean sat down across from Marco and stared at the meal before him like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on, and if we're being honest, as far as food goes, it probably is. A real, actual meal made with actual ingredients. Marco's voice broke him from his trance and he nodded. "Well, I can't really help you with that... but I can tell you that my apartment right now is pretty much trash so that's why I'm moving. I don't make much noise, unless I'm drunk, which is hardly ever so uh... I probably won't bother you too much. Or at least I hope I won't. I can do all of my own laundry and cleaning and stuff like that. And I'm not picky about anything at all really, so if I were to bug you or something, it's no problem for me to change what I do." Jean finished as he began eating the glorious, heaven-sent meal before him.

"Well it'd probably be a deal-breaker if you didn't clean up after yourself. Then again, I was cleaning up after my old roommate for a year and a half. Sorry to hear about your place, but keep in mind that I have..." He cleared his throat, then continued, "Many other options, I mean I just put those fliers out today! Well, you're the first person that's actually called, but that's besides the point." He shrugged and started to eat as well, keeping his mind focused on deal-breakers. "My old roommate and I had a laundry schedule, by the way. I had Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. He had the rest."

Jean was slightly stunned at Marco. 'Is he... bluffing?' Jean smirked briefly and somehow managed to pull off his 'no-bullshit-business face' and looked directly into Marco's eyes. "I don't doubt it that you have other options for renting this place. It's a rather nice place indeed not to mention that you seem like a decent person yourself. However, there are quite a bit of... unsavory people that would make indecent roommates." Jean set down his dining utensils and looked back up into Marco's eyes with a wolfish grin on his lips. "I can guarantee that I can be the perfect roommate for you."

Marco raised his eyebrows and and smiled, though he didn't show any teeth and it looked more lopsided than anything. He leaned back in his chair, setting his utensils down as well. "You're getting a little ahead of yourself! But I like your confidence. But actually I don't have any other options I was just trying to make you more interested. And it seems like it worked. Either that or you came here tonight fully expecting to rent this apartment. If I do happen to pick you, you're going to help me take down all of the flyers. Of course I'm going to need a little time to think it over. I'll need your number for whenever that is, but it can wait until you're ready to leave."

Jean let out the breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding in. 'He likes my confidence? It's too bad that it was all bullshit' he thought to himself. Jean nodded at Marco and muttered something along the lines of "sure" or "that's a given." Jean looked around awkwardly for a moment and absent-mindedly poked at his bruised nose with a grimace of pain. He sighed again. He couldn't tell if the atmosphere really felt this tense or if it was just him. "How about we clean up the dishes and then get on with that tour?" He mumbled

Marco hadn't really noticed the tense atmosphere at all. In fact, he was having a pretty good time. "I can take care of the dishes. I have to run the dishwasher anyway. You can poke around, doesn't bother me. My bedroom is the first door on the right, the empty bedroom is the second on the left, and the door at the end of the hall is the bathroom. First door on the left is the hall closet. Bathroom supplies and towels mostly. Knock yourself out. But if you'd like to wait for me to finish up, that's fine. Doesn't matter to me either way." He smiled and stood up, setting Jean's plate on top of his, and the silverware on the top plate. He left the glasses and took the rest into the kitchen, then rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. He returned to the table to pick up the glasses, loaded them in the machine as well, and pressed the start button. If Jean poked around in his room, well... He had nothing to hide. It wouldn't be very polite, but it didn't matter much to him.

Jean cast a concerned glance at Marco but didn't question him before getting up and walking towards the rest of the apartment. Before he left the dining room, Jean stopped in the doorway and said "You really..." 'trust people way too much...' was what he wanted to say, but he felt that might be taken the wrong way. "are rather kind." He substituted before roaming around the other area. The entire place was really nice. Jean ended his self-given tour with the bedroom he imagined as his. It was nice, not super luxurious, but not the hole-in-the-wall room he had right now. He leaned against the window-sill and stared in the well-lit Seattle streets. He couldn't see a single prostitute, which was something he was quite unaccustomed to.

While Jean looked around, Marco stood in the middle of the kitchen and frowned, wine bottle in hand. He'd said he would pour them both a glass if Jean met Marco's standards, but maybe he'd just really felt like celebrating for no reason. He shrugged and picked two of his favorite wine glasses from the shelf above the regular glasses, then popped open the wine bottle. His demeanor changed quite a bit then, his effortless smile returning as he poured them both a glass. He left the bottle on the counter and picked the glasses up, locating Jean rather quickly and leaning one shoulder against the doorway. "Nice view, huh? The patio's even better. Come celebrate with me."

Jean's thoughts stopped when he heard Marco's voice from behind him. He turned around and grinned. "A celebration, huh? Who in their right mind could refuse that." He joked as he followed Marco onto the patio. "You were right. The view is better on the patio" He said as he let his eyes take in the sight. It was probably even better than his view back at his old apartment. Just maybe. He took his glass from Marco's hands and sipped at it gently. He made a small noise akin to something of approval.

Marco led the way to the patio, stepping aside for Jean to go first. He stepped outside, shutting the screen door behind him. The apartment needed to cool down a little anyway. He leaned over the railing and looked down, watching people and cars pass without any knowledge that he was above them. "It's someones birthday right now. Someones wedding day. Someone is celebrating the life of a loved one that died. So I figured we should celebrate too." He sat down in one of the two patio chairs, setting his glass on the table between the chairs. "Tell me about yourself. I won't have to hop out of bed with a cricket bat at 3am only to find out you're just getting home, will I?" He smiled at that picture in his head. He'd almost never done that with his old roommate unless it was his girlfriend's birthday or his own. They usually celebrated late into the night and into the early morning right across the hall.

Marco's reply was surprisingly simple-minded in Jean's opinion, which rose an unintentional snort from him. In this society and economy, no one really thinks like that anymore. 'It's refreshing.' Jean thought to himself as he smiled over his of glass wine."Um, probably not." Jean replied to Marco's question. "I'm used to being home well before midnight, and I don't think that'll change or anything" he said. Martin Luther King Jr. Way was beyond sketchy once the sun started going down. Jean cleared his throat. "What um, exactly is it that you want to know about me?" he inquired as he took another sip of wine from his glass, eyes still roaming the Seattle streets below.

Marco nodded and looked up, gathering his legs on the seat of his chair and crossing them. He rarely came home before 8, unless his friends invited him out for drinks. Of course, that only really happened once or twice a month. It didn't seem important enough to mention. As for Jean's question, he figured it was best to just get right down to it. "Where do you work and how much can you chip in at the end of the month?"

Jean tore himself away from his favorite hobby of people-spectating and turned around to face Marco, elbows supporting him as he leaned on the patio railing. "I'm a part-timer down at the Starbucks on Pike. Money isn't tight with me though, so I can chip in as much as needed." That wasn't a total lie. He could chip in as much as was needed, it just required him doing extra jobs here and there. Jean wasn't sure if he should mention that or not, so he kept his mouth shut. Perhaps he should state that he thought 50-50 was how people normally split rent, bills, food, etc. etc.? Nah, it's not up to him, he's not the one with the contract on this place. "Is there a specific way that you'd prefer to split the costs?"

"Not really. I guess 50-50 is the norm, but I'm fine with switching it up a bit sometimes if you give me a little notice. I won't have any problem with it. Honestly I don't actually need a roommate. Money isn't tight with me either, I just like the company." He smiled, cheeks pink with embarrassment. "But uh... rent here is around $1,400 a month. Landlord's super sweet, too. So if cash ever gets tight for the both of us for a little while, we just have to let her know and she'll just have us pay in full when we can. Happened once when I was just starting out here." He propped his elbow up on his knee and sipped a little from his glass, then set it back on the table. "Does all of that sound okay?"

'How strange. Getting a renter just for the company. If I were him, I'd rather enjoy this place all to myself. Or just have my girlfriend move in.' Jean speculated. "Yeah, that sounds more than okay." He grinned to himself. If Jean managed to snag this place, then he'd be free of his landlord forever! Not long afterwards though, Jean's happiness faded. He only makes, on average, $1100 a month, but he had a couple of student-loans to pay off so it came down to about $500 each month. Depending on how many hours he gets, he could make more or less, meaning he could hardly afford the rent and he might have to pick up on his extra 'jobs' to pay for the electricity and internet bills, not to mention food, or clothes. He absent-mindedly chewed on his lower lip in thought. Sure, he didn't like doing his extra jobs but they paid quite a bit, and in this case it might be necessary. He shrugged it off. It didn't matter at this point, so he settled his worries with a quick swig of the red wine that Marco had so kindly offered. "Speaking of things that are okay, do you have internet here?"

Marco snickered and scratched his chin. "Of course I do. It's pretty fast. I threw a kind of get-together with my friends a while back. Near Christmas actually. I had maybe fourteen people here and almost all of them were connected to the internet and it only lagged a little bit. Oh, and I visit family in San Diego every Thanksgiving, so you'd be free to have anyone over while I'm gone so long as they don't steal or trash anything." A few years back, he'd brought his then-girlfriend with him to introduce her to his aunt and uncle, and they'd loved her so much that she still joined him even after they broke up. Of course, that didn't seem like necessary information, so he kept it to himself and sipped at his wine. Jean would probably meet her eventually anyway. And even if he didn't, it didn't matter much. "So what about your family? Where do they live?"

Not that internet mattered all that much to Jean, it was just really annoying to pay for internet that 20 other people in his building were constantly using. Jean tensed up a bit at that last question. He wasn't sure how to word his reply to that without seeming like a brat. "My father lives in D.C. and last I heard, my mom was thinking about moving back to La Wantzenau in France, where she grew up." Jean chuckled a bit, although it came out sounding nervous. He added, "I guess she's missing her hometown or something." He hoped that his word choices wouldn't invoke any questions from Marco. Jean got the feeling that if Marco knew that he hadn't actually talked to his parents for nearly 6, maybe 7 years, Marco wouldn't like him all that much. "Anything else you want to know?"

"You're French? Wow, okay, that kinda sounded rude because not everyone from France is actually French, they could've just... grown up there. I guess." He chuckled awkwardly, running his hand through his hair. "My parents are from Belgium." Well shit, hadn't meant to blurt that out. "Not really sure where, I mean I lived there for a few years but I moved because of... stuff. But no, I don't think I have anymore questions. In fact, let's just be quiet and enjoy the frigid fall air, yeah?"

"That's good with me..." Jean mumbled before taking the last sip of his wine. Socializing, especially with strangers, sure took a lot of energy. He sighed lightly and turned back around to stare at the streets below. Not 2 minutes after he remembered he still had to give his number to Marco. Without speaking, he pulled his scratched flip-phone from his hoodie and installed Marco's under his contacts. Then he scrolled to where his own number was listed and he held the phone out to his, hopefully, soon-to-be roommate.

Marco's glass quickly emptied the next time he picked it up, and for a moment he couldn't understand why Jean was holding his phone out towards him. After a few seconds of looking at Jean then his phone, he pulled his own phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. Marco's phone, unlike Jean's, looked brand-new, although he'd had it for almost a year. It was, like most of his friend's phones, an iPhone. He didn't like the black design, so he'd picked the white one. He added Jean's number to his contacts and made a note, 'Potential roommate'. He smiled and looked back up at Jean as he pocketed his phone again. "There we go. Leaving already?"

Jean chuckled. "Yeah, it's getting kind of late and the last buses will be leaving soon." he neglected to add that he really didn't want to be caught in the streets near his apartment so late. "It was nice meeting you, Marco. Thank you for everything, the dinner was really wonderful and the wine was more than excellent." Jean added a hint of charm to this statement. He may be a thug nowadays, but he could remember his manners when he wanted them. Jean took his phone from Marco's hands and shoved it back into his hoodie. "Call me with your answer whenever it's most convenient for you." Jean stated finally as he walked his way into the kitchen and set his wine glass on the counter.

Marco stood up and stretched after Jean had gone inside, then took his glass and followed him into the kitchen. "Nice meeting you too. I'll probably call you by the end of the week. You're pretty nice, and you don't seem like a total bad guy, so you're at the top of the list. And it'll probably stay that way if no one else calls." He grinned and motioned towards the door. "So, good night, have a safe trip home."

"Thanks." Jean said as he smashed his feet into his dirty, worn out tennis shoes. He glanced at the clock on his phone and realized he would probably have to run to make the last bus. "Crap..." he muttered. He turned around quickly and shook Marco's hand real quick as a farewell before dashing outside and running down the stairs. He felt a little bit like a kid. Partly from the exhilaration of running and partly from the excitement of possibly getting an awesome new apartment along with a really cool roommate. He vaguely regretted not asking Marco more questions about himself, but he supposed that would only be of importance if Marco decided he would be the new renter. Jean sighed and slowed his pace as he neared the bus stop. Now it was just a matter of time...

* * *

_Thursday, the 24th of October._

Eleven phone calls and five meetings later, Marco sighed and flopped down onto the sofa. He had been under the impression that roommate hunting would be easy, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. Two people he'd interviewed actually had been to prison. In fact, one of them had been three times. The other was a woman that looked like she'd had a stroke a while back. She'd arrived with a cigarette in hand and seemed like it was her life's mission to blow smoke in Marco's face. Other than that, the other three had completely awful personalities. One had shown up dressed all in black, as though they had thought that it would attract the sun's light and make him warmer. When asked about it, he said he dressed like that year-round. The other two were just... not that great. So, there he was, dialing an almost complete stranger's number and inviting him to live with him. How could it go wrong? To Marco, it couldn't. He waited patiently for Jean to pick up, but he would just leave a message if he was busy. It was after 9pm on a Saturday, he was either relaxing, in bed or out on the streets doing something fun. Or maybe he was still at work, it's hard to tell with part-timers.

"Fuck. Where is it..." Jean cussed as he searched for the source of that annoying standard ringtone. Not in his hoodie... not on his bed... As he went to search for his phone in the bathroom, he heard a small 'crack' noise come from under his foot. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me..." He picked up his phone from the bathroom floor and glared at the wimpy thing as half of the plastic cover fell off. He quickly tossed the broken off piece in the trash can and pressed the 'accept call' button. Putting the thing up to his ear, Jean thought, 'thank god, it still works' to himself. Jean cleared his throat before speaking into the mic. "Hello?" crap. who was it on the caller I.D again?

Marco grinned as soon as he heard Jean's voice, but he quickly shook his head and cleared his throat. "Congratulations sir or madam, you've been selected! For what, please refer to the address on the flyer you picked up last Saturday night!" He paused. That sounded so, so ridiculously stupid. He sighed audibly. "Okay but seriously. It's Marco. I'm assuming no one else is going to call at this point, and most of the people I met were... not the type of person I'm okay with being in my home. Y'know? So the place is yours, or at least half if it, if you still want it."

Jean couldn't hold it in. He held the phone away from his face as he bent over and nearly literally laughed his ass off. That was probably to most ridiculous thing he'd heard within the last decade and wow... he couldn't believe Marco would even say something so stupid. With a smile still plastered onto his face, Jean cleared his throat again and put the phone to his ear, the bad mood from the phone incident completely forgotten. "You bet your bottom I still want it. When is it okay for me to move in?" He asked while scuttling around his bathroom and throwing things into the moving boxes he had previously prepared. He paused for a second and looked at the spare toothbrush that his girlfriend had left there. She rarely came over anymore so it probably wouldn't matter if he threw it out. "Won't be needing that..." he muttered to himself as he tossed the toothbrush into the trashcan.

"Ah... Well I can help you move out this weekend if that's cool? Just one problem. I already have a ton of plates and cups and bowls and stuff. Do we wanna add onto that, put your dishes in storage, or put my impossibly fine china in storage?" He snickered quietly. Only old ladies had "fine china", and he couldn't even understand why. Hell, even his mom had had fine china when she was still around, and she didn't even like it! "Hey, why do old ladies always have fine china? It's a question that's been bothering me for five seconds. Does your mom have fine china? My mom did, and now my dad just stares at them a lot. What's the point of having dishes if you're not going to use them?"

'Jesus Christ, this guy sure talks a lot. It's not exactly unpleasant though.' Jean kept stuffing things into the boxes sloppily. "That's a really good question. What's the point of having anything if you're not gonna use it?" That sentence could definitely be attributed to the fact that he tossed another of his girlfriends left-behind items into the trashcan. "I don't think my mom has fine china though. She does, however, have copious amounts of shoes, most of which she never wears." He looked at all the stuff left in his bathroom. He didn't have much, just a couple of towels and hygienic stuff. "By the way, don't worry about dishes. I'm probably just gonna go throw them out." He moved onto the kitchenette to see if there was anything he wanted to keep. "Does your kitchen have room for a six-pack, 2 boxes of mac n' cheese, and some Ramen?"

"My kitchen always has room for mac n' cheese! And sure, that other stuff too. My aunt Clara has a ton of jewelry. She has a lot of rings but I've only ever seen her wear her wedding ring. Women are pretty weird... Then again, my dad has a lot of ties. Not sure what for though." He frowned and tapped his chin as if he were deep in thought. "Say, how much stuff are you bringing? I have a friend that owns a truck, and I'm pretty sure he'll let me borrow it."

Jean chuckled. "Women are weird, you can say that again." 90% of the time, Jean wasn't even sure he spoke the same language as his girlfriend and his mom. Well, most of the time he *wasn't* speaking the same language as his mom because he refused to talk to her in French. "No that's alright, I've only got a couple of things. Like probably 7 boxes plus a mattress and a dresser." Jean said as he ripped his sheets off of his mattress and stuffed them into the nearest box. He began working on pulling his clothes from his dresser and tossing them into another box. "I'll probably just call Yumir and have her drive my stuff up there." Dating a farmer-raised tom-boy came in handy sometimes. Mostly when you wanted to borrow their trucks. Jean only had a couple more things to pack, but he decided to leave a few pairs of clothing out so he would have something to wear until the weekend.

"If you insist! I already have another key made from when my last roommate lived here, so that'll be my first gift to you. Consider it a housewarming present. Also, there are no spare keys. Leaving one under the mat would practically invite some unknown thief in, and I don't think you'd be tall enough to reach it if I put it on top of the door..." He laughed, propping his feet up on the ottoman. "Just kidding. Anyway, I'll see you this weekend. What time do you wanna come over? I'm pretty much completely free, but I promised a friend I would help her with her plumping issue. Tap leaks. She lives a good half hour away, so I'll be out from 9 to either 11 or noon. If you'd like to drop stuff off earlier, I will come to terms with my issues and leave your key under the mat." He rolled his eyes, his lip sticking out in a sort of pout. You just never know who could be watching! The neighbor across the hall could see you place the key under the mat and you'd be doomed. "Wait... do I even have a mat?"

"No way. All kinds of shady people live in Seattle, I'd rather not risk your life by having you leave the key outside the door." Jean flopped down onto his bare mattress. "I'm working this weekend, but I've got the early shift so I'll probably show up about 1 or 2pm. Hopefully you'll be home by then. If not, I guess I'll just chill by the door." He pulled his phone away from his face really quick and sent a text to Yumir that read 'yo, i need a favor from u'. He propped his phone between his ear and shoulder. "How do you not know if you have a mat or not?"

Risk his life? Yeah right, more like risk his things getting stolen. He paused, listening to the clack of the keys that he knew was from texting. He'd been on the phone with several friends that text while in a phone call, and some of them didn't have a touchscreen. He missed his old phone sometimes. It was really sucky, but he liked the keyboard sounds. "I don't look down when I enter or leave my apartment, that's how. Oh, also, we need to arrange a meeting with our landlord and put you on the lease. Or whatever it is. But we can do that after you're settled. Oh again, do you have any allergies?"

"I'm allergic to stupidity and bee stings, but that's it." Jean paused for a second. He didn't really know what to say. "Um, what about you? Any allergies?" It was a dumb and cliche answer, but whatever. He just really didn't want this conversation to end. He pulled his phone away from his face again when he heard a soft chime, notifying him that Ymir had replied saying 'i love how that's the first thing you ask for. not even a hi.' Jean groaned. He really hoped she wasn't in one of those 'you're-a-terrible-boyfriend' moods again. Apparently she was, because not soon after he received another text sayin 'fine, whatever can i do for you, your majesty' Jean tapped out a reply saying 'u should call me that more often. i need 2 borrow ur truck skills tho bc im moving out this sat.'

Marco waited for the clacking to stop, then shrugged before remembering that Jean couldn't actually see him. "I'll allergic to dogs. I'm more of a cat person though. Oh, and cheap wine. Sooo allergic to cheap wine. And beer. I'm an expensive date, it's awful. My ex-girlfriend and I split bills whenever we go out, but she makes me pay for my poison. Isn't that just awful?" It wasn't awful, actually. He was grinning like an idiot and he didn't really care. He was still very close with his ex, and she even called one of their outings a "date" quite recently. They'd only really broken up because she'd been stressed about her parents divorce and needed some time to sort things out, but over the past year she'd grown to love both her parents and her dad's new girlfriend equally. And if they were all happy, then the odds of them getting back together were fairly high. Really, he hadn't needed to mention her, but he just loved talking about her, so it fit.

"Well, it's good to know that I won't have to share my Chimay with you. I wouldn't want you dying because of my terribly cheap taste in alcohols." He said cheap, but Chimay, imported straight from Belgium, was probably one of the most expensive beers around. "Woaah, you still hang out with your ex? That's a rare one these days." Most of Jean's ex-girlfriends couldn't stand the sight of him. He wasn't a terrible boyfriend, he just never cared much for any of them. Speaking of girlfriends, Yumir wasn't having any of his shit today. 'fine, but youre taking me on a date. not a crappy one. i want a nice dinner, and a movie at the very least.' "Women are impossible..." Jean absent-mindedly muttered into the phone before writing his reply. 'fine whatever but only after i get moved in'.

"Chimay? I think my dad drinks that. I've tried it once, and wouldn't you be surprised. I didn't have an allergic reaction to it. Guess who's sharing?" He got up and stretched, absently wandering into the kitchen. "I'm only still friends with her because she's the sweetest girl you could ever hope to meet. And because we were friends before we started dating and it wouldn't be fair to either of us if we lost a friend because of a perfectly reasonable breakup. I'm friends with all of my exes, actually. But I only have like two. ...Are you having girlfriend troubles?"

Jean chuckled. "Damn, and here I was, thinking I'd be able to spend my days alone with all of my beer." Yumir sent him a message saying 'no because for all i know, that could take you years. we're going out this saturday, right after im done being your pack mule' Jean had been hoping he'd be able to get to know Marco a little better after he moved in, but man, the things he sacrificed for a somewhat decent relationship. "Yeah, that's a word for it. Girlfriend wants me to take her on a date right after she helps me move my stuff. Apparently it has to be a fancy date too." 'fine' was all Jean replied. He didn't feel like arguing with her anymore tonight. He'd much rather focus on his conversation with Marco.

"No such luck." Marco grabbed a gallon of orange juice from the fridge and poured himself a glass, then returned to his seat. "Oooh, a fancy date? Will I get to meet her first? She has to pass roommate inspection before I can trust her to take you anywhere. Or... Well... Really she should be on my case actually I mean I'm kind of a stranger. But my point still stands! Where are you taking her? You seem like a sports bar type of date to me, honestly. Cheap beers and nachos. I think that'd be fun though. Why does she want something fancy?"

"Oooh, beer and nachos sounds really good right now actually. That's creepy, how do you know me so well?" Sure it was almost 10pm, but when a man gets hungry, food he must eat! Jean stood up and walked over to his fridge. He didn't have nachos, but 2 day old chinese take out was just as good. He sat down on his mattress, setting a bottle of Chimay on the floor, and started digging into his chow mein. God he sure hoped Marco couldn't hear him eating. "Probably because I haven't responded to her texts or calls for almost 2 weeks, so she's pissed at me and wants to take revenge on my wallet. Oh, and you'll definitely get to meet her. If she sizes you up, and then smirks and laughs, don't worry, she does that to most people."

"I'm secretly craving nachos and I was hoping I wasn't alone? I think I actually have some tortilla chips and nacho cheese. Are you off on Sunday?" Oh boy, smirking and laughing? That sounded... Pretty brutal actually. "She sounds... difficult." Difficult? God, there were SO many ways Jean could interpret that! He's only officially known the guy for like hardly even a day and he's already insulting his girlfriend? "Woooow I didn't mean that. I mean like... hard to please? No. That is not what I meant I'm sure she's very easy for you to please. Not implying that she's easy though! Y'know what, I think I dug a pretty damn nice hole. Gonna go ahead and lay down in it now."

"Make those nachos and eat them for my sake." Jean stated. This Chinese food was *not* cutting it. Jean gripped his plastic fork for dear life and broke out laughing. "Dude! Chill, it's all good. She's definitely difficult and hard to please. She's... an enigma." He chuckled to himself. Yumir probably hated his guts by now so he didn't really feel all to bad about saying that about her. It held some truth, and he was never the kind of guy to defend a perfect image that someone had just because he was dating them. Too much trouble. "Luckily, I am off on Sunday though."

Marco laughed quite a bit himself, mostly because he was relieved that he hadn't scared Jean away. Or pissed him off, that'd be bad too. "Sorry to hear about that. Can't say I've had any partners like that." He shrugged, swishing the juice around in the glass. His first boyfriend had been a little... off, but it still worked for a while. "As for the nachos, I think I'd be heartbroken if I had to enjoy them alone. I can totally wait. Oh hey, what are your shifts like at work? Sorry for changing the subject, but once I think of something I need to get it out before I either forget or lose the nerve."

Jean set the almost empty take out box on the floor next to his unopened beer. "My shifts aren't really fixed, but I work 4 hours, unless I pick up for someone else, and that could mean anywhere from 8am to 9pm on Monday through Saturday." He paused for a second to open his beer. A gentle 'Ksssh' that came when he popped off the cap was more than satisfying for his ears. "Most of the time I get the opening shift though." Jean added before taking a swig from his Chimay. Pure Perfection. "Hopefully my schedule won't mess anything up for you?" He half-asked, wondering why his shifts were important.

"Those kinda shifts always confuse me. My cousin worked shifts kinda like that and I never understood it. Still don't. But anyway, I was just checking. I leave at 7am, so it won't be a problem. We only have on bathroom, so that's why I was a little concerned." Marco set his glass down and wiped his hand on his pants, the condensation from the glass making his hand cold. "I feel kinda bad for asking so many questions. And talking so much. Sorry."

"No it's cool. Might as well talk a lot considering we're going to start living together for who knows how long." Jean looked at the clock on his phone. It was getting kind of late, and he had work tomorrow... so he should probably get to sleep, but he was enjoying talking to this guy. "Uh, sorry, but I don't think I ever asked you before. Where do you work?"

Marco stood up, leaving the juice on the table as he wandered into his room. He put Jean on speaker and set his phone down, starting to change into his pajamas. "I work at the Apple store over on University Village street. Mondays through Fridays, 8am to 5:30pm. I like working there because people forget to log off of Facebook on the computers. I've personally never done anything aside from logging them off, but I've seen some people come and go because of it."

Jean decided to fake a couple of sneezes. "Ahh oh no, I'm having an allergic reaction just hearing about that. A-a-achoo!" He grinned to himself and took another gulp of Chimay. "Ouch, people get fired just for messing with those guys? I hate to sound insensitive, but don't those guys kind of deserve it? You know, considering that they're the ones that left their Facebook open in a public place?" It didn't make sense to Jean. Why sack a guy just for having a little fun with an idiot that left their Facebook open?

Marco paused, taking a moment to sit down on the edge of his bed to laugh. Once he composed himself, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Well why don't you get a job with me and find out if that's really the case? I don't even know why we let them log on in the first place. Do people really need to check Facebook while they're out and about? What if someone was doing errands and just wandered into the store just to like a page? What's even the deal with that, what is the point?"

"Part of me wishes I took psychology classes in college so that I could do studies on them to see if a Facebook Addiction is real like people say it is." Another sip of Chimay slid down Jean's throat, warming it with the usual fire that came with alcohol. "I might take you up on that idea though. Getting a job just to see if people really get fired for screwing around on the customer's Facebook pages. It's rather tempting..." He chuckled to himself. 'Oh man... the fun I can have with them...' Jean thought as a devilish grin wormed it's way onto his face.

"I'm pretty sure it is real. My cousin would exit Facebook to check something else and a few minutes later she'd be back on Facebook. I don't really get it. But y'know, I was only joking about you working with me. That kinda stuff goes on your record and it's not good at all. Buuut... If I were to call you when someone kept themselves logged in and you just happened to be free, then there wouldn't be anything I could do to stop you from posting something on their Facebook..." He laid down on his back, setting his phone on the pillow next to him. It was getting pretty late, but he didn't really feel like hanging up. Hell, he'd probably be more likely to pass out than to hang up first.

"That's just as good. I'd be a fool to pass up a golden opportunity like that. I don't get chances like that where I work right now." He said absent-mindedly. Jean finished off the last of his beer and tossed it into the trash can from his place on his bed. Lucky for him, it hit the rim and bounced in. He wasn't usually one to do something so frivolous. It was probably just because he was in a good mood from joking around with Marco for a while. It really had been a while. "Wow, I can't remember the last time I talked to someone on the phone for this long..." Jean hadn't meant to say that out loud... He felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Uh, I mean, I've um, never really been a phone type of guy y'know? Ahaha..." Ugh. His palm hit his forehead. 'Way to go Jean...'

"Pays to have friends in high places, y'know." Well no, actually it pays to know people in high places, they weren't necessarily friends. Of course, it was a great opportunity to make a new friend, and they were going to live with each other for a while so they'd have to at least like each other. "I'm more of an in-person type of guy I guess? Talking on the phone is nice and all, but social queues are kinda hard to pick up on if you can't see the other person. Does that make sense? It's especially awful for me because I talk so much."

Jean didn't really think he talked that much, he did talk quite a bit, but hell, he'd only talked to this guy what, like 3 times so far? For all he knew, Marco would turn out to be one of those people that talked non-stop even if someone wasn't listening to them. He shuttered a bit at that. His previous girlfriend was one of those people... and that was a horrifying experience. "Uhm, yeah that does make sense. Cause you can't tell if they're joking or not sometimes right? Plus it kinda sucks when you can't see what's on their faces." 'cause then you can't tell if they're lying or not...' "Aha, anyway... it's getting kind of late, and I've gotta wake up at 5am tomorrow, so I've gotta go? I'll see you on Saturday I guess." This kind of farewell was really strange in Jean's opinion.

Marco glanced over at the clock, his eyebrows raised. "Shit, didn't mean to keep you up. I'll see you Saturday then. Nice talking to you." He hesitated, then after a moment he ended the call. There wasn't much else to say, and as much as he hated hanging up first, he was the one that had kept Jean up. He set his phone on the bedside table and got up to put his juice in the fridge for something to drink with breakfast, then brushed his teeth and returned to bed. If he could get Jean to himself on Sunday, they could take a trip around Seattle and take down the flyers. He'd forgotten to mention that, or even ask about it, but he'd ask on Saturday, no big.

* * *

Notes:

Edits and Revisions: My roleplay partner and I were previously misinformed about West Seattle. We had been told it was one of the shadier places in Seattle, but it turns out it's actually one of the nicer places so this chapter had to be revised a bit to make accomodations for the new locations. If you've already read Chapter One, I recommend reading it again before starting on Chapter Two.

Orca cards are basically debit cards for buses. They work only for the bus systems in Washington, and most working adults and/or students have them.

Chimay is a popular brand of beer produced in Belgium. I'm not sure if it's actually sold in the states, but for the sake of this story, it is.

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please leave them in the form of a review.  
Farewell, everyone, and see you next chapter, where things get a little more eventful.

My wonderful roleplay partner's tumblr: bokunomarco . tumblr . c o m

My beta-reader's tumblr: arseraptor . tumblr . c o m

My tumblr: sexon3dmaneuvergear . tumblr . c o m

(remove all spaces from links provided)


	2. Chapter 2, Part A: Moving In

Welcome to Chapter 2 Part A of Drunk on You.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin, nor do I own any of the characters featured in this work of fiction. Neither my role-play partner nor I are gaining any sort of profit from this.

Warning: May contain inappropriate language, sexual themes, alcohol usage, mentions of violence, potentially triggering subjects, and very very bad puns. Rating may be subject to change in the future.

**PLEASE READ:** Edits and Revisions: My roleplay partner and I were previously misinformed about West Seattle. We had been told it was one of the shadier places in Seattle, but it turns out it's actually one of the nicer places so the previous chapter had to be revised a bit to make accommodations for the new locations. If you've already read Chapter One, I recommend reading it again before starting on Chapter Two.

Chapter 2 Part A has been beta-read. If any further errors or mistakes are noticed, please point them out in a review.

* * *

_Saturday, the 26th of October._

"Have fun with Yumir and moving in, dude!" A voice called from the back door of the Starbucks shop as Jean stalked away, plastic bag in one hand, phone in the other, rapidly texting Ymir to meet him at his old apartment. "Thanks Connie, I will." Jean shouted back towards his friend. His hand gripped on the plastic bag that supposedly held the housewarming gift that Connie had gotten him. Of course, granted it was Connie that had given it to him, it was probably something really garish or entirely useless. He was tempted to open the bag and open it right now, but that could wait until he was done unpacking all of his stuff.

Jean sat down on the ferry and texted Marco, 'ill probably be over in about 45 min with my stuff. r u there right now?'. He let out a quick sigh. He still hadn't mentioned all of this to his landlord... but that could wait until the last minute. His nose still hurt a bit from when he got beat up a week ago and he wasn't too keen on revisiting that pain. The ferry halted to a stop and the captain called out over the loudspeaker that they were docking and unloading. Passengers must get off first, cars wait until the ship is clear of walk-on passengers, yadda yadda. Jean was one of the first people off, and he practically ran up the four flights of stairs to his old apartment. He wasn't gonna lie, he was pretty damn excited about this.

He walked up to door 403 to find Yumir leaning against the wall, her blackberry in hand as she impatiently tapped at the screen. She was probably texting someone from her work. She was usually a very busy person, and most of her time was taken up with her precious work. Jean couldn't image what it took for her to get this day off. "Yo." He greeted. She looked up from her phone and her furrowed brows returned to their emotionless state. "'Yo' yourself. Let's do this." She replied as Jean walked past her, unlocking the door and leading her to where he had all of his stuff stacked up in the middle of what his bedroom used to be. He grabbed a couple of boxes and started down the stairs again. "Where'd you park the car?" Ymir hoisted one of the heavier boxes onto her shoulder and followed Jean down the stairs. "Right by the stair case. I had to fight for that damn spot.." She trailed off, explaining how she had to cut off one of the crack addicts trying to pull in there. "Jesus Christ Yumir, are you trying to get yourself killed? Those crack addicts can be really vengeful people. Just watch, we get down there and the tires will be slashed." "Don't be such a baby, Jean." Jean shut his mouth at that remark and chucked the two boxes into the back of the truck. Surprisingly, the tires weren't slashed, but there was a lovely key-scratch along the side. "Is that new?" He asked. "Probably. I don't really keep track anymore." Yumir shrugged and the two of them began their journey back up the stairs.

About 30 minutes later and they had managed to get all 5 boxes and the dresser loaded in, plus the mattress strapped on top. It probably looked unbelievably ghetto, especially considering the truck itself was a beat-up, falling apart Ford. Jean quickly sent Marco a text saying 'leaving now. be there in 10-15 min' and true enough, 16 minutes later, Jean and Yumir were pulling into a parking space at Illuminia Apartments. Jean hopped out of the truck and opened the trunk, his eyes vaguely searching for Marco as he pulled out the first few boxes.

Marco spent a good part of his morning at his friend's place, fighting the leaky tap with a wrench. It had taken quite a bit longer than he had expected, though he still pulled in around quarter past 1pm. Jean and his girlfriend still hadn't arrived, and for the first time that morning he checked his phone. Three new messages, two from Jean and one from Krista. 'I get off early tonight, can we spend some time together? 3' Marco smiled to himself as he tapped out a quick reply. 'Sure! My new roommate is moving in today but he'll be out with his girlfriend. Come over at 6?' And, in response to Jean's texts, 'I'm home, let me know when you get here so I can help bring things up. See you soon! : )'. He poured a glass of water and drank half, then half-walked half-jogged downstairs to the lobby to wait. Oh, shoot. Stairs. If Jean brought anything heavy, they would have a hell of a time getting it up to their floor. Oh well, they'd figure it out. Maybe Jean's girlfriend could help. Did he ever say her name? He couldn't remember, but Jean would probably introduce them, if he remembered to.

Jean made a wonderful mistake of grabbing the two heaviest boxes he had, thus causing him to take his sweet time going up the stairs to Marco's floor. A small chime emitted from the pocket of his trusty blue hoodie but his hands were too full to get it. "Yumir, do you have a free hand? I've got a text but I can't send a reply." His voice came out a bit muffled, thanks to the fact that his face was mushed up against the top box. "Yep, I sure do~" Jean didn't quite trust that tone in her voice when she snaked a hand around and plucked his phone from his pocket. "Is Marco your roommate? cause he says 'I'm home, let me know when you get here so I can help bring things up. See you soon!' complete with a smiley face." Yumir said from behind Jean, who answered with "Yeah that's him can you tell him I said we're outside right now.?" "Hehe, can do." Ymir's swift thumbs tapped out a reply to Marco which read 'im here rite now bby, why dont u come and get me ;)'. After she pressed 'send', Yumir had a hard time controlling her snickers and giggles.

Marco leaned over the railing and listened to the noises created by the bustling city crowd below. Most people were still trying to get back to work from lunch, but traffic seemed to make that nearly impossible. His phone dinged from his back phone, and he took his sweet time prying himself away from the quality entertainment that was the street below to answer it. He laughed a little at the winking emote and went inside, tossing his phone on the couch as he made his way to the door. He looked through the peephole first, just to check, and couldn't see anything but cardboard. He unlocked and opened the door, stepping aside to let Jean pass. "I left your door open just in case your hands would be full, you know the way. Do you need any help?"

"Thanks." Jean muttered and pushed past Marco, straight towards his new bedroom. "Help would be great. There are two boxes left down in the trunk. It's the red, scratched up Ford." He replied as he set the boxes down. Yumir made her way past Marco too, following Jean, hot on his trail. As Jean went back down the stairs to grab pieces of his dresser, Yumir stopped where Marco stood and practically violated him with her eyes before giving a small snort and holding out her hand for him to shake it. "Hi, my name is Yumir. I'm that dope's girlfriend." She gestured towards Jean who was currently fumbling with carrying too many things.

Marco nodded and shook Ymir's hand, smiling at the fact that she'd done exactly what Jean said she would. "Nice to meet you. I'm Marco, that dope's new roommate. I'd love to chat more once we're finished, if that's okay." He nodded once, then made his way downstairs and outside. Yumir's truck wasn't too hard to find luckily, and he was soon on his way back upstairs with the boxes Jean had mentioned. They were pretty light to him, so he reached Jean's room with minimal effort. He set them on the floor near the window and walked back out to the living room. He'd seen the mattress, though he wasn't sure how easy it'd be to fit it through the door.

Yumir nodded her agreement and followed Marco downstairs. After he had grabbed the last boxes and made his way upstairs, Yumir stood back from the car and wondered which of the two things left she should take. Both of the items required two people... Jean stumbled down the hallways, his load of furniture nearly falling over when he lost his balance for a split second. He safely plopped the stack of drawers from his dresser onto a random corner of his room. The only things remaining were the base of the dresser, which he looked out the door to see Ymir pulling it from the trunk, and the mattress, still strapped down on top. Amazingly, Jean stared in surprise as his girlfriend carried his dresser all by herself. He passed by her on the stairs and said "Try not to scratch anything." To which she replied, "Then why don't you lend me a fuckin' hand?" Jean grinned at that. "No way, you look like you're doing just fine by yourself. Aren't you always complaining about how much you hate the fact that society thinks women need to rely on men?" He answered, his hands working at the buckles holding the mattress down. He heard a small, half-serious, half-joking toned "fuck you jean" come from inside the apartment.

Marco waited for Yumir to clear the doorway, then hurried back outside to help Jean with the mattress. "Which side are you grabbing?" He helped finish unbuckling the straps and started to get the mattress down, careful not to drop it on the ground. "She's sweet, by the way. Can totally see why you like her."

"Don't let her hear you say that. She'll start trying to get you to take her on fancy, expensive dates too. Don't even look her in the eye. All your money will disappear." Jean joked, grabbing the far end of the mattress and waiting for Marco to grab the opposite end.

Marco chuckled and picked up the other side, giving himself the oh-so-wonderful job of walking backwards up the stairs. "Oh, my wallet's already invested in someone. I don't think it could take much more than that. Hah, I'm kidding. Krista isn't that big on gifts. If she was though I don't think she'd like things that were too expensive, so either way it's cool."

"Krista? Is she the ex-girlfriend that you mentioned before? The one that you're still friends with." Jean asked as he shuffled awkwardly up the stairs. They'd probably have to turn the mattress a different way in order for it to fit through the door. Maybe he should just get a blow-up mattress instead. So much easier for transportation...

"Well actually we went on a date recently. It was just lunch, but she called it a date. So I guess we're in that awkward in-between stage again. We're almost together again but we've still got a little ways to go, y'know? Shit, that doesn't make sense." Marco seemed to be holding up his end pretty well, though having to look over his shoulder to see made him nearly slip once or twice. They eventually made it to their apartment door, and he couldn't have been more pleased. He fit the mattress through the door diagonally and slipped past it to join Jean in the hall. "It should take a few good shoves to get it in, and we'll probably have to do the same thing with your door. You wanna take a rest or are you good to go?"

"No that makes sense. You broke up, but you're friends, but you're slowly working your way back into dating again. Did I get that right?" Jean dropped his end of the mattress for a second to crack his back and knuckles before picking it up again and indicating that he was good to do some shoving. "What's she like, Krista?"

"Yeah. You say things better than I do." Marco sighed and rubbed his shoulder. Boy was he glad the mattress was the last of it. He grabbed onto the edge of the mattress and pushed, and he hoped that the movement wasn't just in his imagination. Why the hell did such a small guy need a huge bed? "Ah, she's... Very sweet. Soft-spoken. Absolutely gorgeous. She's pretty shy, but not like the kinda shy that makes you feel bad for someone. It suits her. Try making sense out of that."

"I believe the word you're looking for is humble? Or maybe modest. Basically the complete opposite of Yumir. Yumir is probably the un-girliest girl to ever girl. Now there's a sentence that doesn't make sense." Jesus Christ. Jean knew he should've gotten a smaller size. But he had a lot of extra cash when he bought this thing and thought getting the most luxurious thing there would make his life easier. The thing had just barely gotten passed the first doorway and realized now that he had been very, very wrong.

"Well... Not really humble or modest but kinda. She's the type of girl that you just wanna... Pick up and spin around until you're both so dizzy you can hardly stand. Just when she smiles. What do you like about Yumir though? There has to be something wonderful about her, right?" After a few more shoves, the mattress tipped over into the entryway. Marco sighed and crawled onto it, rolling onto his back once he was comfortable enough. "I hope this bed is worth the effort. It's comfy but it is way too big to be practical for you, shorty."

Jean laughed nervously. "Ehehe... Uh, I guess because she's cute? And she's not really shallow or anything, and pretty laid back. She doesn't get mad at me when I act 'gross' in the words of other girls I've dated." He wasn't sure that there was anything super wonderful about her. She was actually probably more of a friend with benefits than a girlfriend. Or at least that's what she was to him. "Her freckles are cute." He added vacantly. Sure, most of his past girlfriends had freckles, but that didn't mean he had a freckle fetish. Jean bristled at Marco's last comment. "Shorty? I'm not short, you're just freakishly tall. How fucking tall are you anyway, like 12 fucking feet jesus christ." Jean wasn't even sure if Marco minded him swearing or not, but he was not short. 5'11" is average. Jean stuck his hands under the mattress and started sliding it down the remainder of the hallway, Marco and all.

Marco relaxed on the mattress, his arms behind his head as the ceiling went by. "So you're a freckles kinda guy?" he asked, ignoring Jean's height issue. "Can't say I'm surprised. Y'know, Krista's blonde. I don't really have a thing for blondes though. In fact, my past two partners were brunettes." He shrugged and sat up unsteadily. "I feel like I'm on a really shitty boat. Are we gonna go down like the Titanic? Wait am I the captain? Do I have to go down with my ship? I'm too young to die just yet!"

"Oh you'll be going down somewhere if you don't lift your big butt off this thing." Jean said, struggling with pulling the mattress around the corner, towards his bedroom door. "Oh, and I'm not a freckles kind of guy. They're just cute on Yumir." He justified. Gosh, he sure felt like he had to justify a lot of things around this guy. Freckles, height, there would probably be a couple of other things in the future. "Wait a sec... How old are you? I never asked."

"Oooh, I'm fearing for my life. Man the lifeboats ready!" Marco rolled off of the mattress and stood up, helping Jean push it towards his room. "Sure you aren't. I'm 25 though. Seems like something we should've asked from the beginning. How old are you? I'm guessing... With your non-so-fresh face, I can tell you've seen and probably done some things you're not proud of. That makes you look a lot older than you really are because of the stress and worry that accompanies it. You look older than me but younger than 30. But your eyes say 22 through 25. That's the highest I'm going." He paused, frowning and scratching at his neck. "How bad am I off?"

Jean pulled his end of the mattress into his room and just tugged on it, seeing it it would manage to budge. Asking Marco his age really should have been something they did at the beginning but hell, technically it was still the beginning somewhat... Jean's face shot up and he just stared at Marco. Should he mess with him... or tell him the truth? Jean put on his best 'what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about face' and deadpanned "Um, I'm 19...I guess I should take it as a compliment that you think I'm older than that, though?"

Marco's eyebrows shot up, his mouth hanging open a little. "You're joking! Shoot, and I thought I was actually pretty good at reading people... Remind me not to try it on Yumir, I'm sure she'd get ticked if I thought she was several years older than she actually is. Well... Fuck." He laughed and continued to scratch his neck, not even bothering to help with the mattress at that point. It hadn't been a compliment, it had been an insult to both Jean and his college professor and he felt awful for it. He felt awkward and out of place in his own home and it was just... Weird. He'd never been that off before.

Once Jean was sure that his prank had made Marco uncomfortable, he broke out into a grin. "That's for calling me a shorty. I'm actually 24 and Yumir insists she's been 21 for the past 5 years." He tugged at the mattress, it's spring making popping noises as they awkwardly squished through the door frame. "It's creepy how you do that though. Guess something just by looking at me and then getting it right. Even the whole 'seen and done things you aren't proud of'." There was only a little bit left to squish in and then he could start unpacking his stuff. "Speaking of Yumir though, where the heck is she?"

Marco crossed his arms and bumped Jean aside, easily pushing the rest of the mattress into his room. "I don't know, she's your girlfriend. Maybe you should put a tracking chip in her or something. We can mess with the bed later. You're lucky my old roommate left his bed frame. I wouldn't have helped you fit that in here." He stretched his arms over his head as he wandered into the living room and plopped onto the sofa. "Hey, where's my phone? Could've sworn I left it right here... It'll turn up I guess?"

Jean shoved his mattress up against the wall for now and looked around. It looked like Yumir had put his dresser back together for him. "I don't know, it's your phone, maybe you should put a tracking chip on it or something." He replied. Jean didn't feel like doing any of this later so he pulled his clothes from their boxes and put them into whatever drawer he felt like they should go in. He plugged his crappy alarm clock in and grabbed his bathroom supplies. When he reached the bathroom, the door swung open and Yumir passed by him, white iPhone in hand. Jean didn't think anything of it and placed his toiletry next to wherever Marco kept his. Ymir, with a large grin on her face, made her way into the living room and sat down on the sofa next to Marco. "Hey, who's this blonde chick? She's really cute!"

Marco rolled his eyes at Jean's snide retort and propped his legs up on the ottoman, picking absently at his nails. He jumped as Yumir joined him suddenly, and for a moment he didn't understand her question. He took his phone and looked at the picture, Krista smiling at the camera. "Oh. That's my kinda-girlfriend. Krista. You'll meet her tonight if you and Jean don't leave for your fancy dinner date until after 6."

Yumir's face showed pure elation and fascination. She called towards the bathroom, "Hey Jean, we aren't leaving for our date until after 6 so go unpack all of your crap!" Jean came out of the bathroom and stared at her. "My crap is already unpacked..." "You didn't organize or fold anything, did you." Jean scoffed. "No? It's fine the way it is." "Uh-huh... hey

Marco, that girl, Krista, what's she like?" Jean couldn't believe it. He'd never seen Yumir actually smile before. 'If you could even call that thing on her face a smile...' He thought while flattening the 4 empty boxes and leaving the box full of bedding next to the mattress.

Marco raised an eyebrow at Jean, then at Yumir. How couples could argue so much, he'd never understand. "Uh... Well like I told Jean, she's sweet and soft-spoken. She's pretty funny when she wants to be and almost always thinks of others first." He looked through his other pictures of Krista and held the phone so Yumir could see as well. Some of the pictures were when they'd gone to San Diego for his family, some when they'd gone ice skating and he took a break while she continued to skate, some when she'd practically begged him to go to the beach with her, and others when she cooked and laughed and smiled. She was just so photogenic. She didn't have a bad angle or a better side. "Why are you so interested?"

Yumir's face felt a little hot... was being so interested a bad thing? "I don't know, she just so photogenic that it's unrealistic. Has she ever done modeling before?" She couldn't help it, Yumir just really wanted to look at her. She looked like a nymph, or a pixie, or a tiny goddess..."Oh! I forgot to mention this earlier, but Krista sent you text saying she was coming over a little earlier than planned. You seemed busy pretending to be a captain of a ship, so I told her that it was okay." Replying for a complete stranger might not be the nicest thing to do, but she really hadn't felt like bothering Jean and Marco at that point. Speaking of Jean... said man with the multicoloured hair and bruised nose walked out into the living room, a pack of beer in one hand and a couple of mac n' cheese maracas in the other. "So uh, where exactly can I put these?" his head nodded at the shaking boxes of noodles.

Marco was almost shocked by how curious Yumir was, but... She did seem like "the type". "I don't think she has? She did a few commercials when she was a kid, and a couple of diaper ads when she was a baby, but other than that, no." He would've commented on the whole texting situation, but he didn't really get the chance. He stood up and shoved his phone in his pocket, leading Jean to the kitchen. "Uh... Mac n' cheese goes in the cupboard across from the stove, you'll see other pastas and stuff. I'll find a place for these." He took the six-pack and opened the fridge, kneeling down in front of it with a puzzled expression on his face. Well shoot, the fridge was pretty full...

Krista adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder slightly, standing in front of Marco's apartment door and tugging nervously at her birth stone ring. She'd been excited to meet his new roommate, but it was still a little early... She thought that maybe she should wait outside for a little while, but she'd already told Marco she wanted to come earlier. There was literally no point in stalling. She knocked, panicked because it might have been too quiet, and knocked again with a little more force.

Yumir would have been exaggerating if she said she jumped off of the sofa and the sound of the first knock and sped her way down the hall, but it was something pretty close to that. She checked the peephole first before swinging the door open and staring at the blonde girl before her. She cleared her throat and held out her hand. "Hey, my name's Yumir. I'm the new room mate's-" she hesitated on that word, but it came out eventually. "Uh, girlfriend." She looked around awkwardly for a second. "The boys are in the kitchen, fussing over their Ports and Chardonnays and piss-poor souffles." She grinned to herself at that.

Krista would've been lying if she'd said that she hadn't been extremely startled by the sudden opening of the door, and for a moment she wondered just who this strange woman was and why she was in Marco's apartment. She quickly remembered Marco talking about a friend's date once the woman, or Yumir, said she was someone's girlfriend. She took Ymir's hand and shook it gently, offering her a smile. "I'm Krista. I'm Marco's girlfriend." Well... Kind of. They'd been on dates, they just hadn't really said anything about really getting back together. In fact, Marco invited her over for a movie night while his roommate took his girlfriend on a date. She was hoping she could talk to him about making it official after the movie. She usually tried to laugh politely at someone's poor excuse for a joke, but Yumir seemed genuinely funny, and she couldn't help but laugh a little. "It's nice to meet you. You have kind eyes. May I come in?"

Yumir felt a little bit of warmth in her heart when she heard Krista's laugh. It was light, and delicate... It almost made Yumir feel like a brute, or even worse, a man. "Well, it's not my place, but I'm going to go ahead and speak for the guy that I met 2 hours ago and say, yeah sure, mi casa es tu casa." Yumir backed away from the door to let her pass through and watched, or rather, stared at her. She had a kind of natural grace and beauty that she only wished her models would have. Yumir wondered if she would ever agree to be a model for her. Her portfolio had all sorts of things and people in it, but it was definitely lacking a certain Krista. "Ah, so you said your Marco's girlfriend? How long have you two known each other?"

Krista entered the apartment and took her flats off. She could feel the cool wood beneath her feet even through the her wool tights. She set her flats near the door and stepped onto the carpet, soft and kind of springy under her feet. "I've known him since high school. We started dating in our sophomore year in college. And you? When and how did you meet your boyfriend?" She entered the living room and set her purse on the couch, looking behind her at Yumir. She was interesting. And she had nice hair. It was the kind of hair that girls at sleepovers would fawn over. The color was dark and closely resembled silk. She would've touched it if she could reach without asking Yumir to lean over. She could hear voices from the kitchen, Marco "aha"-ing and mumbling something about individually placed cans.

Yumir grinned. They sounded like such a cute couple! "Ah, Jean and I met in France six years ago at his aunt's wedding. We were just acquaintances for a couple of years, but then he called me up out of the blue and told me he was moving up here so we became friends and we started dating like... 6 or 7 months ago?" She scratched at a spot on her temple and chuckled. "I can't remember exactly, but meh, it's whatever." She said with a quick shrug. Soon after, Jean entered the living room with a sigh and went straight passed both girls and into his bedroom. His voice sounded from behind the wood, "Yumir, we're leaving in like half an hour and I thought I was taking you out somewhere fancy. You aren't going dressed in what you're wearing right now, are you?" Yumir looked down at her attire. Jean was right, a T-shirt and overalls weren't fit for a fancy date. "I might, just to embarrass you." She called back.

Marco followed not long after Jean, greeting Krista with a kiss on the cheek. "Excited for our movie night?" He smiled and sat on the arm of the couch. "I've narrowed it down to three movies but I think you should have the final say."  
Krista stared after Jean and listened to his and Yumir's rather short conversation, and was just about to ask Yumir something when Marco joined them. She fiddled with her ring again. "Well... Actually I was wondering if we could join Yumir and Jean," she turned to Yumir, "only if you don't mind though. I'd just like the chance to get to know you two better is all."

Yumir was a little shocked that she would give up a date just to get to know a couple of strangers. "Yeah, that'd be great! Maybe it can be a little bit of a housewarming party type deal! People do those right? Ah, but Jean and I were planning to go down to The Georgian... Are you two okay with such an expensive place? I mean, if you aren't, we could always ditch that plan and go to a Sports pub or something? I'm sure that would make Jean feel way more comfortable." She vaguely wondered if their reservation at the Georgian would be okay if they added too more people. It probably would be, considering Jean had ties to the owner of the restaurants.

"The Georgian? I've been there a few times. It's really nice. Some of the waiters even bothered to remember my name, isn't that sweet?" Krista smiled, her cheeks still a little pink from the cold. "Did you bring another outfit with you?"  
Marco scratched his chin and got up, knocking on Jean's door and opening without waiting for a response. He covered his eyes just in case Jean was changing and leaned against the closed door. "So Krista asked Yumir if we could join you two. I wasn't asked about what I thought, but I guess that doesn't matter? I mean anything to make Krista happy I guess, but I went through 27 movie titles and narrowed it down to three just for tonight. I feel like this is going to be happening a lot, too. They really hit it off."

Yumir nodded. "Yeah, I did, but I'm still half-tempted to go in these." She said, tugging on her overalls. "But, I don't feel like getting kicked out, so I better go grab it from my truck." She flashed a toothy grin before stuffing her feet into her vans and walking outside into the cold, october air.  
"They hit it off? That's great and kind of odd. Yumir doesn't really just 'hit it off' with anyone. A lot people say they bug her because she's kind of nosy. And she's has a bad habit of making horrible jokes and puns when she's nervous. Or hungry. She makes a lot of food puns when she's hungry." Jean said as he rummaged through his dresser drawers looking for his evening wear while in his boxers. He pulled out a pair of grey slacks and a black dress shirt before checking a different drawer. "Which movies were you thinking about seeing? I also told Yumir we'd do that tonight, but I never had time to look up the movies so I was hoping she'd forget about it. Maybe we can do that too."

Krista nodded and sat down, looking through her purse for her lipgloss. It had faded and dried a bit because of the wind, so freshening it up wouldn't be too bad, would it? Once she finished, she rubbed her lips together and put the gloss back in her purse.

"She likes really cheesy movies okay, so don't get on me for this. I picked out Love Actually, The Notebook, and 50 First Dates. It was supposed to just be us though, that's my entire problem with it. But we're already intruding on your date, so you might as well do the same. It was just going to be kind of an important night..." Marco sighed and lowered his hand, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at his feet. "Guess I should change."

Yumir jogged back upstairs, her dress, safe from the elements in it's plastic cover, was tossed over her shoulder. She stood in the living room for a minute, debating whether she should change in the only bathroom in the place, or interrupt the muffled conversation she heard coming from Jean's room. Giving up, she decided she could wait until the two of them were done for her to use Jean's room, because god damn it, she knew how awful it was when you needed to take a dump but the bathroom was occupied. She let out a huff of air and sat down next to Krista. "So, might as well start the 'get-to-know-each-other-better thing' asap, right? Where do you work?"

Jean grabbed a hold of Marco's arm. "Woah, hold up dude. Why was tonight supposed to be important?" He asked as he tripped over the legs of his slacks in his attempt to shrug them on.

Krista waited patiently for Yumir to return, her hands balled into fists on her knees. Okay, so maybe the whole lip gloss thing was a sham. Maybe she just wanted to impress new people. What was wrong with that? She kept her head down until Yumir spoke, and only then did she notice she'd come back. "I work at St. Jude Children's Hospital on 11th. I'm a nurse. Where do you work?"

Marco shrugged and lowered his voice. "Well I wanted to... Get back together. Completely. But it can wait I guess. Are you having issues?" He chuckled and helped Jean steady himself. "Your balance is awful."

Yumir slid into a slouch in her seat and scratched at her temple. "Wow, a nurse huh? I thought for sure you'd be a model, or something like that." She stared at the ceiling. Not that there was anything interesting up there, Yumir just felt like she might've been staring a little bit too much at Krista. "I'm an amateur photographer. I work down at the Adonis Photography Studio as an intern. It's fun work, but it does pay super well. Yet, anyway." Yumir added with a confident smirk on her lips.  
"Woah. Sorry... I feel kind of bad that Yumir forced you into this double date now... I hope Krista will say yes to you anyway though." Jean said as he attempted to hop into his slacks, but he kept losing balance and getting his feet into the wrong holes. "Dude, putting on pants, has never been this hard, I don't-" His sentence was cut off as he gently gripped Marco's shoulder to prevent him from toppling over. "I don't get it." He finally pulled his pants up and grinned in triumph for a moment before realizing they were on backwards. "This is literally impossible" He groaned as he slipped them down his legs and attempted to pull his feet from the leg holes. One of his feet got stuck in the hole and Jean, who had grown frustrated with the whole situation, lost his balance completely when he tried to yank his ankle from the hole. He felt that bottomless pit in his stomach drop in the panic that came with falling.

Krista's cheeks reddened considerably as she processed that compliment. Even her ears felt a little warm. "A model? I-I appreciate it really, but I don't have what it takes."  
"It's not that big of a deal, I swear. I'm just overreacting a little. I'm sure we'll all have a great time as soon as you figure out how clothes work." Marco laughed, both at his own joke and Jean's backwards slacks. It was actually pretty ridiculous how much effort Jean was putting into it. He looked away as Jean once again took his pants off, listening to him grumble with a small smile on his lips. He could probably get used to living with the guy if every night was as eventful as this.  
A sudden movement caught his eye, and his hands reacted before his head. He wasn't able to stop Jean from falling completely, and it probably would've gone the same way had he not done anything at all. His hands firmly grasped Jean's hips, though they still collided hard enough to send Marco back into the door. He hit with enough force to cause it to shake a little, but other than that the fall went relatively unnoticed by the two in the other room.

Yumir's eyes snapped back to Krista. "What? No way! You totally do! I mean, you just kind of have this air around you, y'know? Like, some people have airs of elegance that make you go 'damn, she's fancy', but you have this air of grace that kind of just... uh.. makes me- I mean people want to stare at you a lot. Ahaha..." She switched from scratching her temple to vacantly rubbing along her jawline. Her jaw felt a little tense from nervousness...  
Jean's eye were wide and his mouth was pressed into a hard line. His breaths were forced and erratic and ankles were throbbing slightly. It took him a second to process what just happened, but when he did, he just sort of mumbled "Jesus fucking Christ. Satan invented these pants." His muscles were still trembling from the shock so he didn't dare move away from his stop, lest he lose his balance again. "Are you okay Marco?"

"...I do? Are you just saying that? I considered it when I was younger. What young girl doesn't want to be a model, right? But... I invested myself more and more into my dance lessons, and eventually people said that my modeling window was gone. I thought it was kind of silly, and I didn't want to be a model anymore anyway." Krista sighed, pulling her legs up onto the couch and holding her knees close to her chest. "You're a photographer... I could be your muse sometimes if you'd like."  
Marco was still in a state of surprise himself, his knuckles aching and turning white from his grip on Jean's hips. He... Actually had a pretty nice figure. He shook his head to try and clear it a bit, then rested it back against the wooden door. "Yeah. I'm fine. Are you?" If Jean still tried to wear those pants after all that, he would be a real trooper. No pants were worth that amount of fuckery.

Yumir grasped Krista's small hands an shook them wildly. "Yes yes yes yes! I would more than like that! My personal portfolio is dying to have you in it!" Yumir paused for a second and pulled out her phone. "Here, let's trade numbers so that we can arrange a time where I can stare at your face for a couple of hours and maybe even photograph you a little" Yumir wasn't sure if Krista would take that seriously or not, she kinda hoped she wouldn't, just so Yumir could avoid the title of 'creep' which stuck to her all through elementary and middle school.  
Jean slowly nodded and took a step forward, testing if his legs were still too shaky or not. "Yeah, I'm probably fine." He took a deep breath and calmly slid his feet from pants, picked them up, and crushed them in his fist. "Why don't we have a bonfire party? These can go straight on the top." He voice was filled with the kind of malice that only came from tripping over one pair of pants too many times... but... he didn't own any other dress pants so the process of fighting to put these slacks on began once again. Not that it was much of a fight. Jean slid his legs into each pant with vigilance. It only took him about two and a half minutes.

Krista shared Yumir's excitement, though it didn't show quite so much. At the mention of swapping numbers, she pulled her phone out of her purse and traded it with Yumir's, entering her number and handing it back. "So long as I get to stare right back at you, I see no problem with it. I work nights, Sundays to Thursdays. Lunch sometime?"  
Marco held his hands up as if someone was pointing a gun at him, his face red with embarrassment. As soon as Jean stepped away from him, he stood up straight. "I'm going to go change now, best of luck to you in your quest to put on clothes correctly!" He fumbled for the doorknob and couldn't get to his room fast enough. That was probably the single most embarrassing thing he'd ever had to go through. And he used to play truth or dare in middle school. He changed quickly, though not fast enough to get caught in any of his clothing like Jean had. And now... To forget that ever happened and to never mention it to Krista.

A light blush tinted Yumir's cheeks. That was just standard flattery... She wasn't anything special to look at. "Uh, yeah lunch sounds good. The studio isn't open for business on Wednesdays incase anyone wants to use it for their own personal stuff, so I can go ahead and reserve next Wednesday around noon for us, If that's a convenient time for you?"  
After Marco left, Jean let out a noise that sounded like a mixture between a groan and a growl with a hint of frustration. He tripped like a dumbass, and got caught like a girl. He wasn't sure which part was more humiliating. Not to mention the fact that he probably looked like a total asshat in front of his brand new roommate. Jean stewed over these issues as he secured his belt in the loops of his trousers and tucked in his dress shirt. All he needed was to find a tie of some sort... basically anything worked... He didn't want to waste anymore time putting clothes on than he already had.

"Wednesday is perfectly fine. Is there a bus station nearby? I don't drive." Krista smiled sheepishly, her eyebrows pulled together. She hated admitting that, it was so weird. Not that it was odd if someone didn't drive, because Seattle traffic isn't that great.  
Marco finished his outfit with sensible black shoes, taking a look in his full-length mirror. He straightened his clip-on tie and fixed his cuffs, his cheeks still a little pink from the whole Jean thing. He took a moment to collect himself, taking deep breaths and holding then in for several seconds whilst he fixed his hair. There. All done. He exited his room and joined the girls, sitting in the arm chair next to the sofa. "Hey Yumir, you can change in my room if you'd like. Jean's probably still having issues with his clothes."

"Yeah, if you take the 70, there's a bus stop on Seneca street, but that's about as close as you can get. It's about a 5 - 10 minute walk to get from there to the studio so it's not that far. It's got a few turns here and there, so I'll meet you at the bus stop." Okay so that was a lie. There were only 2 turns, but hey, so what if Yumir lied so that she could spend more time with Krista? Yumir stood up when Marco said he could use his room. "He's having issues with his clothes? My my, what were you two doing..." She teased, closing the door to Marco's bedroom behind her. If felt a little weird. Get dressed in a complete stranger's room, and Marco was all too trusting to let her do so. She took a quick glance at how he kept his room, just a mental note to see what kind of a person he was, and slipped her outfit from it's protective plastic bag.  
Jean gave his indigo bow tie one last and flashed himself a victorious grin. He tossed his suit jacket over his shoulder, fussed with a few stubborn pieces of hair, and took a trip to the bathroom to make sure he looked alright.  
Yumir emerged from Marco's room not 20 minutes later, brushing a bit of cat hair off of her black pencil skirt. She hadn't put makeup on yet, but she would do that in that in the car, considering they were already late. She walked into the living room, makeup bag and clutch in one hand, black heels in the other. "So, what means of transportation are we using get there?"

Krista nodded, trying to remember the bus number. There was no way she'd remember by Wednesday, so she made a note in her phone instead. She gave Marco a look, curious as to what he meant by "issues with clothes". She quickly dismissed it as nothing important. Jean probably just needed help with his tie. Then again, Marco never learned how to tie a tie. Must've just needed help picking an outfit out.  
Marco laughed in response to Yumir's teasing, though as soon as she closed the door to his room, he let out a quiet sigh. He could tell it was going to be a long night.  
Krista stood up when Yumir rejoined them, staring in awe at her outfit. She wished she could wear things like that. She thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "You had to have used a car to get here, so why don't we take yours? Unless it doesn't have enough seats. Marco has a Honda, I think?"

Yumir scratched at her temple. "Well, it has enough seats if someone is willing to sit on a lap, but that's illegal, and I don't really need any more tickets. If you're okay with it, Marco, we could take your car?" Plus there was no way she was letting the valet, or anyone else for that matter, drive her car.  
Jean stepped from the bathroom a moment later and whistled when he saw Ymir. "Is that new?" he teased, knowing that it wasn't. It was the same green satin shirt and black pencil skirt combo that she had worn when they met at Jean's aunt's wedding. "Yes, because it's obviously been new for 6 years now." She rolled her eyes. "Oh? Just like how you've been 21 for the past 5 years?" Jean grinned, giving her a small kiss on the cheek. "Shall we get going?" He asked to no one in particular, his eyes glancing at both Yumir and Krista, refusing to look anywhere near Marco.

"I guess we can take mine, yeah." Marco stood up and grabbed his keys from the hook near the door. He opened the door and stepped aside, holding it open for the other three. He noticed Jean making a point by avoiding eye contact. Avoiding looking at him entirely. It didn't make Marco feel all that wonderful, but he'd started it. He left first, and what Jean was doing was totally reasonable. Still, weird way to start off being roommates.

* * *

Notes:

Please, before you start giving me flack about names and spellings, listen to what I have to say. I've seen both spellings of Krista/Christa and Yumir/Ymir used in official translations, so my roleplay partner and I were rather confused as to which spellings we should use. So we decided we would look at the kanji and use the spellings that are closest to the original kanji characters. If you think our spellings are wrong, please direct us to a source that gives the original author's, Isayama Hajime's, intended spellings.

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please leave them in the form of a review.  
Farewell, everyone, and see you next chapter, where lots of horrible puns happen.

My wonderful roleplay partner's tumblr: bokunomarco . tumblr . c o m

My beta-reader's tumblr: arseraptor . tumblr . c o m

My tumblr: sexon3dmaneuvergear . tumblr . c o m

(remove all spaces from links provided)


	3. Chapter 2, Part B: Dining Out

Welcome to Chapter 2 Part B of Drunk on You.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin, nor do I own any of the characters featured in this work of fiction. Neither my role-play partner nor I are gaining any sort of profit from this.

Warning: May contain inappropriate language, sexual themes, alcohol usage, mentions of violence, potentially triggering subjects, and very very bad puns. Rating may be subject to change in the future.

Chapter 2 Part B has been beta-read. If any further errors or mistakes are noticed, please point them out in a review.

* * *

_Saturday, the 26th of October._

Krista pulled her shrug tighter around her shoulders, picking her purse up and dropping her phone inside. They weren't looking at each other, why weren't they looking at each other? Something definitely happened. Either that or they said things, talked about things that made them uncomfortable enough to avoid talking or looking at each other. She made her way to the door, stepping out into the hall and waiting for the others. She'd payed attention to how they interacted. Maybe if she could get Yumir alone, she could get some help with it. Not in the car though, maybe in the ladies room in the restaurant.

Jean stepped into the car after both Yumir and Krista had gotten situated. He wasn't the best actor, he was barely even good, but Jean did his best to act as though absolutely nothing were wrong. He thought it was pretty convincing. He just couldn't bring himself to look at Marco. Not that there was anything wrong with how Marco looked? He looked rather nice tonight in fact. Jean thought that evening wear looked pretty good on Marco, but that's beside the point. He let out a small sigh and rubbed at the unnoticeable bruises on the bridge of his nose. Should he say something or remain silent?  
Yumir was either oblivious to tension between Jean and Marco, or she couldn't bring herself to care and was ignoring it completely. She was much too busy with other things at hand, such as the gentle furrowing between Krista's brows that shouldn't have been as cute as it was, and the fact that she had left her eyeshadow at home. She shuffled around in her seat a bit and gently applied liquid eyeliner with slow, steady motions when they were stalled at the stop lights.

Krista got comfortable in her seat, one leg crossed over the other, her index finger absently tapping her lips as she stared out the window. Her lipgloss rubbed off of her finger and she'd need to reapply it before too long, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her train of thought had slowly turned from Marco and Jean to similarities and differences between Marco and Yumir. There were more differences than similarities, but still she thought both of them were pretty fascinating. And the best part of that was that she'd only just met Yumir. She shook her head slightly, returning her thoughts to Jean and Marco. They weren't talking. Didn't they have so much to talk about?  
Marco adjusted his seatbelt as he waited for the light to turn green, sneaking glances in the rear mirror at Krista, the corner of his eye at Jean. It was pretty frustrating, nothing even happened between them. Jean tripped, that was it. To be ignoring him like he was was kind of ridiculous. But okay, if that was how Jean wanted things, then that's how things would be. It would all blow over in no time.

"Jävla helvete..." Yumir cursed under her breath as a bump in the road caused her mascara brush to leave a black streak across her cheek. She wiped at the line with her hand but it only caused it to smear. "Aaawww, now I look like I'm supposed to be in football or something..." she mused. It was a bit dumb looking, but she could leave it there until she had a chance to get to the restroom. She finished putting on the last touches to her makeup and let out a deep breath. It was way too silent in the car.  
"Wait, I think I've got some tissues you can use or something..." Jean said, digging around in his pockets only to be cut off. "No, it's fine, I'll just take care of it in the bathroom or something. Besides, I wanna see how many weird looks I can get walking in like this." Yumir's voice replied from behind him, a small chuckle following afterwards. Jean laughed weakly along with his girlfriend. "If you insist..." He finished locating the packet of pocket tissues and just to remember where they were and pulled his hands from his pockets. He wanted to say something, but numerous times in the past he'd been told it's best to hold his tongue, so he attempted his best at doing just that.

Krista raised her eyebrows and turned towards Jean. "Could I use a tissue, actually? If you don't mind." She smiled and looked over at Yumir. "I need to reapply my lipgloss, so I'll go with you if that's alright."  
Marco pulled in front of the restaurant, getting out and opening Krista's door for her. He shut it after she stepped out, then handed his keys to the valet. He waited for the others, hands in his pockets. He'd never been to The Georgian before, but he'd driven past it plenty of times, making promises to himself to take Krista someday. Well... That day had come, he supposed.

Jean took the tissues from the back of his pocket and handed the packet to Krista without saying anything. He stretched a bit and walked inside. His face expressionless despite being in such a grand place. He stepped up to the podium where the Head Hostess was scribbling away on a sheet of paper. Her eyes snapped up when she heard Jean clear his throat and she threw a big, fake smile on her face. "Kirschtein for 4." Jean said before the hostess could open her mouth. Her eyebrow twitched ever so slightly "Right this way." She motioned for them to follow her.  
Yumir didn't get the stink eye as many times as she thought she would. Of course, that seemed to be because most people were avoiding looking at her. She chuckled to herself and set her stuff down at the seat closest to the window while the hostess returned to her station at the front. Yumir slid her arm around Krista's and linked there elbows together, heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

Marco led Krista inside with his hand on the small of her back, until they reached their table. He kissed her on the cheek and sat down, looking around the restaurant at the decor and people. It was pretty fancy. He could only imagine what it was going to cost.  
Krista used one tissue to wipe the lipgloss off of her finger, then handed the rest back to Jean. She threw the used tissue in the first garbage can she saw, and set her purse on her seat after they'd reached their table. She followed Yumir to the restroom and stood in front of a mirror to reapply her lipgloss. "Something's going on. Between them I mean. Haven't you noticed?"

Jean removed his suit jacket and pocketed the tissues. He stared down at the fine, polished wood of the table. Perhaps he should make small talk? Yes small talk is good. "So, have you ever been here before?" He still couldn't fully look at Marco's face without feeling a mixture of dread and embarrassment and self-hate, so he pulled up the thin paper menu and feigned as though he were internally debating about what to order.  
Yumir wet a paper towel and pressed it so the smudge. Water-proof makeup was nearly impossible to get off with just water, so she started with scrubbing at her cheek. "You know, now that you mention it, the drive down here felt kind of tense, didn't it?"

Marco glanced over at Jean and picked his menu up as well, immediately looking over their wine section. He had a feeling he'd need a distraction, especially with the girls gone. "No, I haven't. Is it any good?" The atmosphere was nice and the tables were spaced a good distance away from each other, but that didn't mean the food was good.  
Krista frowned and took the paper towel away from Yumir, brushing her hands away as well. "Your cheek will be raw by the time you get the mascara off if you keep doing that. It doesn't matter if we're in here a few extra minutes. But it did. It was almost painfully awkward. What do you think happened?" She dabbed at Yumir's mascara with the damp paper towel then grabbed a new one and wiped it away, careful not to do it too hard. She'd worn mascara once to her step-sister's wedding, but only because she'd been a bridesmaid and she'd been begged to. It had been difficult to get off and her lashes had stuck together, so she vowed never to wear it again.

"More than good in the opinion of some, but it depends on your tastes. If you aren't a seafood lover, I recommend not getting the seafood. The chef here thinks that the ocean taste is unique, so most of the fish aren't extremely fresh. All other ingredients are fresh though." Jean's eyes scrolled through the menu, not seeing that anything new had been added since he'd last been here. "Ah, but the wine is exceptional." Jean added, remembering that Marco had a fondness of good wines.  
Yumir looked at her cheek in the mirror and frowned at the redness beginning to form around the area where she scrubbed too hard. She thanked Krista and turned towards the blonde. "Well, I don't really have any idea what could have happened. Maybe Jean said something to piss Marco off while they were in his bedroom?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "Maybe it was the innuendo-implied comment I made about what they were doing in there that set them off?" she thought out loud.

Marco nodded, setting his menu down and looking over his shoulder towards the ladies room. In the clear. He turned back around, looking Jean in the eye. "I wasn't going to say anything, but it's driving me crazy. It wasn't a big deal. We both know it wasn't. So how about we build this bridge together and get over it? Yeah?" He smiled, no teeth and all worry.  
"Marco doesn't get angry easily. He's always trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Who knows. If it gets to be a bit much, we'll ask. But for now I think we should just watch how they interact. Keep an eye out to see if they make eye contact when they talk to each other or break it off right away. ...At least, I think that's what we're supposed to be looking for. I signed up for AP Psych in my senior year in high school. I got a C-, even with Marco's help. I'm just not as intuitive I guess. Oh! Jean's nose, by the way. What happened? It looks a little bruised." Krista smoothed out her skirt and adjusted her tights around her waist and thighs, then fixed her hair a little. She felt a little out of place. It was such a nice, fancy restaurant and she looked like she'd just come from ballet class! She would've worn something else if she'd had a little notice, but it had been her idea to double date after all.

Jean's face flushed when he accidentally made eye contact with Marco. He averted his eyes and held the menu in front of his face. "It was a huge deal... I tripped over my pants and was caught like some damn girl. It's so fucking embarrassing and frustrating." His face felt unbearably hot. He let his head his the table with a 'thud', the menu still in front of him. "My pride was injured. And I looked totally uncool in front of my new roommate and it's fucking awful."  
Yumir whistled "Woah, How'd you tell his nose was bruised? Maybe you've got intuition for people that are hurt!" She laughed to herself. "From what Jean told me, his landlord got pissed at him and clobbered him straight on the nose! This isn't the first time it's happened either." Yumir looked in the mirror one last time, fixed a rogue strand of hair, and gestured that she was ready to leave when Krista was.

"It's not that big of a deal, people fall. And I guess the whole catching you like a girl thing was kinda my fault? Instinct, y'know? Don't get so hung up on it, it's over and done with." Marco frowned, his expression changing from nonchalant to actually a little hurt. He reached over and took Jean's menu, folding it up and placing it on his own. "You're looking way more uncool right now than you did with your pants down, just so you know."  
Krista covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide. "That has to be breaking a law! I'm going to check it out before I go home for the night. It's a little discolored on the bridge of his nose, and that worries me. When did it happen?" She looked towards the door, but stayed where she was. She didn't think Jean would appreciate them gossiping about him whilst in his presence. They could stand to wait a little longer.

Jeans mouth was wide open, his head jerked up, eyes glaring at Marco. His face immediately turned bright red with humiliation, anger and embarrassment. He covered his face with his hands in shame and mumbled "Shut up, I'm always cool. You're the one that's uncool..." he muttered the last little part to that lie under his breath.  
"Yeah, it's undoubtedly breaking like 6 different laws, but no one's called the police on him because it's rumored he has some serious connections with a couple of local gangs." Yumir paused for a moment and thoughts about that. "It happened exactly a week ago I think. Yep, exactly a week ago."

Marco smiled as if Jean had told some kind of joke. And hey, to Marco, it was! "You're being so uncool right now. Now are you ready to get your menu back and act like a big boy?"  
Krista stepped slowly towards the door, eyes locked on her feet. "I don't think having connections should matter if he's assaulting someone. You would think that the bystanders would be the cowards in this situation, but him hiding behind his connections makes the Cowardly Lion at his worst look like... Rocky!"

"Ugh. Are you trying to make this worse on purpose? I feel like a fucking eight year-old thanks to you." Jean whined, the blood still heating his face, forming a pink tinge on his neck and ears and cheeks. "Fuck it, just keep the damn menu. You suck." Jean didn't care if he was being uncool anymore. Stupid Marco making him feel like a baby...  
Yumir's eyes were downcast, a frown plaguing her lips. "It's great that you think that. Not many people do. Politicians do it all the time, large company owners, basically anyone with any sort of power has connections which they abuse when their butts are close to being roasted..." She pushed her negative thoughts aside and extended her arm towards Krista with a smile. "It's alright though, because Jean moved out and Marco seems very safe! Shall we get going? We can't have the boys getting suspicious of us, now can we?" Just for the heck of it, she gave Krista a small wink.

"Oh my gosh, you're actually riled up about this." Marco snickered and set Jean's menu back in front of him, then opened his own and continued to inspect it. "So what are you getting? I was thinking of getting a glass of wine, but they have Pepsi... Pepsi or wine? Life's most difficult of choices, I'm telling you."  
Krista's eyebrows furrowed as she listened to Yumir speak, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't getting a little nervous. Luckily, Yumir snapped out of it quickly and went back to her usual self. Krista looped her arm around Yumir's as they'd done on their way in, trying (and failing) to contain a giggle. "Aren't we supposed to be suspicious of them though? Remember, eye contact and body... Something. I can't remember what it's called."

Jean's face remained hidden in his hands. Was Marco seriously teasing him? He felt a little self-conscious that he'd been so foolish to think Marco was being serious. "If you're getting wine, then expect someone else to drive your car tonight..." he said from behind his hands. Jean didn't bother picking up his menu. He already knew what he was getting. He'd been here so many times, and he always got the same thing, so he knew his order by heart.  
"Suspicion is a two-way street darling! Plus, when people get suspicious, they start lying and trying to get certain reactions from the other person. Humans are weird." She laughed to herself, knowing entirely that she was included in that. "Ahahaha, you mean body language? I'll try to keep those two things in mind but I'm not very observant." She stated as she walked back to their table, arm-in-arm with her new muse, Krista.

"I'm not a total lightweight, a glass of wine won't kill me. Or the passengers in my car. But I guess if you're so concerned, why don't you drive us home?" Marco set his and Jean's menu on the edge of the table, then began to lightly drum his fingers on the polished wood.  
"I just get a little tongue-tied sometimes, is all." Krista sat down next to Marco once they reached their table, immediately taking her napkin and placing it on her lap. She set her menu aside with the others, glancing quickly between Jean and Marco. "Jean, are you feeling alright?"

"I've literally known you for a week and you're trusting me with your car? Besides, I was planning on drinking myself so I don't think that's wise..." Jean speculated. Wines weren't his favorite, but this place always had high quality stuff. He tensed up at Krista's question. "Uh, yeah I'm feeling alright. Why do you ask?" He politely inquired with a forced grin. He nervously prodded at the bruises on his nose.  
Yumir sat herself next to Jean, smoothing out her pencil skirt, and began browsing her options for food. She glanced up at her boyfriend and kept Krista list of things to look out for in mind. Jean had a tendency to poke at bruises and pick at cuts when he got nervous. She looked at the menu again and grinned. The Georgian had excellent Halibut a la Barigoule, plus it was the perfect opportunity to make a pun!

"Well shame on me for asking then. Guess it's Pepsi for me tonight." And with that, Marco turned back to tapping on the table. Observing his menu again would be way too suspicious, even if he claimed he forgot what he wanted.  
Krista rested her chin in her hands, fixing Jean with an odd yet not completely unpleasant look. "You had your head down when we came out of the ladies room. Do you have a headache? Nose ache? I have something in my purse for that if you'd like."

Jean's cheeks tinted pink once again. His head didn't hurt and his nose didn't really hurt that much either, but it'd be suspicious if he said he was alright when Krista had already seen him with his head on the table. He smiled weakly at her and said "Yeah, my nose is a little bruised so if the magical item in your purse can take care of that, then I'd be just dandy." He internally scolded himself. Who the fuck says 'just dandy'?  
Yumir didn't say anything. She figured Krista was saying things so that she could get a few answers from Jean's body language and what not, but Yumir was completely lost with this. She was confused and unsure of what to do, so she put her menu down and looked around for a waiter, wondering when their orders would be taken.

Krista smiled, not the least bit suspicious even with the "just dandy" hanging above their heads. She dug around in her purse for a moment and pulled out an Ibuprofen bottle, twisting the cap off and pausing to look up at Jean. "One or two?" Marco glanced around the room, then at the members of his own table. Yumir looked as lost as he felt, but he figured he shouldn't say anything. What was there to say, after all?

"Uh, one I guess." Was it safe to take Ibuprofen and drink alcohol? Jean wasn't sure but he might as well play it on the safe side and just take one. This was a little weird... He hadn't actually properly talked to Krista before this, and here she was, all of a sudden offering him pain meds out of the blue. He shook his head. Nah, she was probably just a really thoughtful person. Yumir practically bounced in her seat when the waiter arrived. The waiter apologized for being so late and asked 'Is there anything I can get you to drink? Or perhaps some appetizers?" Yumir ordered an Iced Tea and Jean, after much debate, ordered a glass of Beringer Merlot.

Krista nodded and handed Jean one small red pill, then twisted the cap back onto the bottle and dropped it back into her purse. Hopefully Jean would stop fussing with his nose and start giving her hints as to what he and Marco were squabbling about, if anything at all. When it was her turn, she asked for a 7-up, as always, but with a lemon on the lip of the glass. It seemed fancier somehow.  
Marco ordered a Pepsi as he'd said he would. He regretted it a little after the waiter left, remembering how Jean had praised their selection of fine wines. Well, it wasn't like it was the last time he was going to have dinner at that restaurant, so it didn't matter too much. "I wish they had outdoor seating. It's beautiful tonight."

Jean took the pill from Krista with a small thank you and swallowed it, grimacing when he accidentally let it sit in his mouth too long and the bitter, gritty taste invaded his tongue. "It might be beautiful, but it's probably really cold outside. Plus I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining at any given moment." Jean said. It was Seattle after all. The weather was volatile.  
The waiter hurried back with their drinks in practically no time at all, he apologized once more for making their table wait so long and placed each drink with their perspective owners.  
Yumir sipped absent-mindedly at her tea. The conversation at the table was slow and impossibly dull. It needed a joke of some sort. "I'm glad I'm eating meat tonight. I've decided that becoming a Vegetarian was a missed steak!"

Krista picked the lemon off of the lip of her glass and stared at Ymir, her head tilted slightly. "Mistake? Missed... Oh, that's awful!" She laughed, squeezing a bit of the lemon into her drink. She returned it to the lip of her glass and looked back at Yumir. "Were you really a vegetarian, or was that just a setup for your joke?"  
Marco glanced over at Jean, his eyebrows raised. Yumir had a ridiculous sense of humor. Then again, Krista had laughed. She could've just been acting polite, but that had sounded like a genuine laugh. He had a feeling that he would be seeing Yumir and Krista together quite a bit.

Yumir grinned at the success of her joke. The other two hadn't laughed, but they were deadbeats anyway. Krista was the only one that really mattered. She threw her hands up as though she had been caught. "Ah I admit, it was a setup. I'm a sham, I know." She dabbed away at an imaginary tear and took a drink of her tea. "So, what are you guys planning on getting?" The question was directed mostly at Krista and Marco. She knew what Jean was getting.  
Jean pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how many more horrible food puns they would have to endure before the waiter brought the actual food. Hell... the waiter hadn't even taken their order yet.

Krista took a sip of her soda and shrugged. "I always get caught between the salmon and the lobster. But I think this time I'm going to get the salmon." She'd visited The Georgian with old college friends and her step-sister several times and she'd never picked anything else. Why should she?  
"I'm thinking about the quail. What are you two getting?" Marco was pretty sure he'd asked Jean that same question earlier, but it'd just occurred to him that Jean might have been ignoring him. How nice of him.

Yumir smirked, yet another opening for a pun had come her way, "I'm thinking that I might get the a la Barigoule just for the halibut!" she stressed the vowels in a way that made 'halibut' sound just a bit more like 'hell of it' and hoped that this one wouldn't go over their heads. Sometimes puns were easy to miss unless people were forewarned that there's a pun there. Before Jean could answer with his order, Yumir plopped her hand on his head and ruffled his hair. "And this sulking baby over here is definitely going to get the Fricassée de Poulet!" She grinned when Jean promptly turned his head to glare at her. Because he couldn't shout or make any sort of violent movements in such a place, he resorted to muttering "Your French accent sucks ass." and letting out a childish huff of air. He was somewhat relieved when he saw the waiter heading their way, stopping at their table.

Marco paused and gave Ymir a look. She sure had an odd sense of humor. He'd never thought puns were funny, but there were some moments when he just couldn't ignore the urge to make one. Yumir seemed to think that every moment was a chance to make some kind of pun. It was silly, he'd admit, but Jean didn't seem like the type to appreciate a good pun when he heard one. Krista, on the other hand, thought every joke had the potential to be hilarious. That, or she was just being polite.  
Krista smiled, her hands on her cheeks and her elbows on the table. She knew it was bad manners to have her elbows on the table, especially at such a fine restaurant, but she couldn't help it. She fixed Yumir with a look of pure admiration, as if she'd come up with that pun on her own and it was the finest she'd ever heard. It wasn't, obviously, but she more than appreciated the effort. She and Marco gave their orders once asked, her order being the king salmon, Marco's order being the glazed quail.

Jean straightened his posture when the waiter came around and relayed exactly what Yumir predicted he would order to the prude-ish looking waiter in a clear, authoritative voice and flawless French accent. The Fricassée de Poulet, also known as chicken Fricassee, here always had the highest grade chicken and french sausage around that complemented the subtle yet spicy flavor of the dish. It often reminded Jean of his aunt's cooking that always graced him when she came to visit before she had gotten married.  
Yumir did indeed get the Halibut a la Barigoule and hadn't just been saying that for the pun. It wasn't her favorite dish here, but she was in a fishy mood, and the pun had definitely been worth it. A thought crossed her mind as the waiter sped away to deliver their orders. The two girls of their group were both ordering fish and the two boys, despite their immediate and apparent differences, were ordering a bird of some sort. Oh boy, Yumir felt another pun coming on... "You boys better watch out tonight. With all of those birds that you're eating, you might have a couple of poultry-geists on your hands."

Marco smiled at Jean's accent, more impressed than anything. What else should he have expected from a Frenchman, though? He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the language. Maybe he could ask Jean to help learn French again. He'd forgotten most of it, mainly because he hadn't had any reason to continue speaking French after his mother had passed, and he feared he would quickly forget Dutch as well after his father passed. Who could tell how long he would have with him before that happened, though? He could have several decades, or a few minutes. And he wouldn't know unless his father's neighbor called. He returned his attention to his new friends, Yumir in particular. Anything to get his mind off of it. "So, where are you from?"  
Krista, meanwhile, had been silently attempting to contain a fit of giggles. Yumir had seen the opportunity and she had taken it. If there was one friend Krista would want to be around if she was upset, it would be Yumir. She seemed to always have a smile on her face and a pun up her sleeve. It wasn't something she was used to, to say the least. She cleared her throat and sat up straight, the fit having passed. It wasn't THAT funny, but she hadn't expected it. Unexpected jokes were the worst, in her opinion. She still loved them, though. Very much. She glanced over at Marco when he spoke, then at Yumir. She'd been curious as well, but she was glad she hadn't been the one to ask.

Yumir looked up from her drink, mid-sip and recalled her family back on their farm. "I grew up in Västra Götaland, near Påbo city." she said. It took her a few moments to realize that they might not know where that is. "Ah, that's a province in Sweden. My family owns a farm up there. I moved to the States after I started high school via an exchange program and I just kind of ended up staying because it was so nice. Ah my accent was impossible to understand back then..." She reminisced, looking down at her tea and letting go of a wistful sigh. "What about you guys? I mean goodness, don't let this be all about me, where you from honey?" Yumir asked, directed at both Marco and Krista, however Yumir made it known that she didn't really care about where Marco was from by delivering a small, subtle wink to the petite blonde sitting across from her.  
Jean, who was sitting quietly on the edge of the table, farthest from the window, was absent-mindedly messing with Yumir's forgotten straw, ripping at top of the the thin paper casing and twisting the bottom. He pressed the open end to his lips and aimed it at Marco's face, blowing a quick burst of air into the straw, sending the paper hurdling towards it's destination. As soon as Jean had let out the air, he slipped the straw into Ymir's drink and stared nonchalantly at the waiters scampering around the full tables.

Krista nodded as if she knew where that was, when in all actuality, she hadn't done so well in her junior high geography class. In fact, she'd gotten a D+. She knew Sweden was in Europe, but other than her own homeland, she didn't know too much about Europe in general. "My family is originally from Germany, but we relocated to Canada shortly before I was born. I grew up in Victoria, British Columbia, and eventually moved to San Diego right before I started high school. That's actually where I met Marco." She looked down, her cheeks pink. Was Yumir usually that forward? She had hardly seen Yumir act so friendly with Jean, her own boyfriend. Maybe that was just how she made friends?  
Marco rested his cheek in his hand, his eyes on Krista while she spoke. He turned to Yumir again once she finished, and though he figured she wasn't that interested, he answered her question anyway. "I'm from Belgium. I moved to San Diego to stay with my aunt after my dad's shop lost most of his business and he couldn't afford to support three of us and pay the mortgage and bills all at once. I moved here after college, and I asked Krista to come with me." He turned to Jean just in time to get hit by a straw wrapper, right in the nose. He laughed and flicked it back at Jean, aiming for his face but missing and hitting his shoulder instead. "This means war!"

Jean forced himself to suppress a wolfish grin from spreading over his lips and instead turned to Marco with an incredulous look on his facial features. "How could you think I would do such a thing?" He lied but he couldn't hold it back, and he flashed his teeth in that mischievous smirk. "But if you insist, then you're on, freckle-boy." Jean grabbed the discarded paper laying on his shoulder and crumpled it into a ball, flicking it back towards Marco's face.  
Yumir wasn't sure whether she should laugh at their boyish antics, or be disappointed in them for being so childish. She didn't really care if they were childish or not on their own time, but she couldn't help but think that they should try to maintain themselves in such a nice restaurant, although Yumir felt a little hypocritical at that notion. Her attention was directed towards her stomach when their waiter returned, food in hand.

Marco and Jean continued their war throughout dinner, much to the dismay of Yumir and Krista. Once they'd all finished eating and declined dessert, their waiter brought them their check. Marco and Jean split it, and they all went on their way. Krista's apartment was on the way home, so Marco dropped her off, kissed her cheek and said good night. Once they'd gotten back to their own apartment, Yumir and Jean said their goodbyes as well, and she drove herself home. And with that, the boys were alone.  
Their cheery conversation dwindled considerably as soon as they entered their apartment, and they quickly went their separate ways; Marco in his room, Jean in his own. Marco changed out of his formal attire and into his pajamas and slippers. He'd had a good time, but he still regretted being unable to get Krista alone. Sure they'd had time when he dropped her off, but with Yumir leaning out her window and wolf-whistling, it hadn't been the right time. He wasn't in any hurry though, so it hardly mattered.  
He fell back onto his bed with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling for a while, a contented, crooked smile on his lips. He'd love to double-date with Yumir and Jean sometime again, preferably when things weren't quite so awkward between him and his new roommate. Sure, the mood had changed considerably after their little "war" happened, but he'd rather that mood continue throughout the whole night instead of near the end. He wasn't sure if that made much sense, but he stuck by it anyway.

The moment Jean had gotten home, he'd gone straight to his room to take off his monkey suit. Pulling his pants off, with significantly less struggle than he'd had while putting them on, Jean let out a sigh and stretched his arms. The date had been fun, albeit awkward in the beginning, but it was nice to know that Marco had a sense of humor. Jean unbuttoned his dress-shirt and threw it to a random corner of his room before looking around. The plastic bag Connie had given him sat on the top of his dresser and he assumed Yumir had left it there. He could open it now, but he wasn't all that eager to see what sort of gift his short co-worker had gotten him, His mattress was still leaning up against the wall, where he and Marco had left it earlier. Jean scratched at a couple of itches on his lower back while he checked the clock on his broken flip-phone. It was only 10 pm, so he had about an hour or two before he needed to get to sleep in time to wake up tomorrow morning. Jean had promised Marco he'd help him take down all of the fliers tomorrow. He wondered if he should slack off for another hour, or go ahead and set up his room by himself. If he did that though, he might be too tired and end up sleeping on the floor. Jean put aside his desires for laziness and pulled at the top of the mattress. It didn't matter to Jean where it went, so he let it drop and wherever it fell, it would probably stay there. As the mattress fell to the ground, it bumped into Jean's side and flopped to the floor. Jean hissed as he felt an unusual sting where the mattress had collided with his hips. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, so he glanced down at his hips. "Holy fuck!" Jean exclaimed when his eyes were graced with the site of five long, blackening bruises on each side of his slim, pale hips. He must have gotten them during that unpleasant event from earlier on that day, when he ever-so-smoothly tripped over his own pants.

Marco had very nearly passed out before he heard a thump and Jean yell. He stood up and crossed his room, opening the door enough to lean his torso out. Jean should be able to hear him through his closed door, but if he couldn't, Marco would probably either knock or just let it be. "You okay? Trapped under your mattress or something?" He smiled at that image, though quickly reprimanded himself. A mattress that size was very likely to give Jean a bruise or two at least, but only if he fell wrong and it hit him a certain way. But still, it wasn't nice to laugh at someone else's misfortune. He stepped out into the hall and listened for a response, leaning against his doorframe with the door handle in his fist. He'd give Jean a moment to compose himself in case he needed it. That thump had been pretty loud though. He hoped the people under them hadn't been startled by it. If they had been, they'd probably come up and ask them to "settle down, you lousy kids". Dazz had had that happen quite a few times when he still lived there, and while it was funny the first few times, Marco quickly grew tired of getting woken up in the middle of the night by a loud knock on the door just because Dazz had been stomping around a little. Well, one of the good things about having a new roommate was that the chances of them being like the previous roommate were pretty slim. ...Okay, Marco had made that up. But he could still hope, couldn't he?

Jean had busied himself by pressing at his newfound bruises when he heard Marco's voice coming from the other side of his door. "You okay? Trapped under your mattress or something?" Marco's voice called. Jean hesitated. Should he tell Marco about the bruises he had discovered? No way, that's way too embarrassing. He had absolutely no desire to once again bring up that humiliating happenstance that occurred during his move in. "I just uhm, my mattress accidentally fell on me and I was just startled but it's all good, no problems here." Jean lied through his teeth. He was normally an okay liar, but wow that was just a pitiful attempt. Hopefully Marco wouldn't question him about it though. "You don't think the neighbors heard and will get mad about it, do you?" He asked, still behind the closed door of his room. His fingers rubbed against the discoloured patches littering his skin anxiously. Sitting here acting all nervous like he'd gotten caught doing something wrong was just stupid of him. Jean let go of his hips and procured bedsheets from his last cardboard box.

Marco grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. Jean startled easily? He had a hell of a time trying to imagine that. But hey, looks can be deceiving. "Cross your fingers and hope they won't. If we get a knock on the door, I'll answer it. She hates me a little less than everyone else. Says I don't backtalk and I seem genuinely apologetic. But odds are, she's already passed out and didn't hear it. So count your blessings." He wandered into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, the room feeling a little colder than the rest of the apartment. He hated the tile. The pattern was ugly and he didn't like how cold it always was if he forgot his slippers. Who puts a bathroom at the back of an apartment, anyway? Maybe they should get a small space heater or something and put it in the corner. Or get a rug.  
Once he finished brushing his teeth, he shut the bathroom door behind him and went back into his room, though he stopped in the doorway. "Good night, see you in the morning," he called to Jean's closed bedroom door. He was definitely looking forward to guy's night, if Jean was still up for it. It would give him a chance to really get to know his new roommate, with the added bonus of nachos and beer. Who wouldn't be excited for that?

Count your blessings. Not exactly a statement that Jean was fond of but it didn't matter anymore. That was in the past. He shrugged to himself and hoped that the woman downstairs was already asleep, which at this moment, was something he really wanted to be. "Kay, night dude." He answered as he finished slipping his sheets onto his mattress. They were covered in orange, innocent looking kittens with halos and had been a birthday present from Connie almost a year ago. The gifts Connie gave were goofy and almost always held hints of irony and elementary school humor, and most of them were useless. Hence Jean's apprehension to open the white plastic bag sitting upon his dresser. Nevertheless, Jean would open it, and provided that it was somewhat useful, he would probably use it. Pulling the last item, a black soft-fleece blanket, from the last cardboard box, Jean lazily flopped back onto his bed, leaving the blanket strewn over his stomach. His pillows sat in the corner opposite of his bed, but he didn't feel like getting them at this moment. He'd get them later tomorrow, he decided. Jean closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb across the bruises on his hips as he waited for the comforting darkness of sleep to welcome him with open arms.

* * *

Notes:** Thank you** to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. My roleplay partner and I always love hearing what you have to say and it's a big inspiration just knowing that so many of you like this story that we've created.

Anyway, I've opened up a poll on my profile that has to do with this story, perhaps you should go check it out?

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please leave them in the form of a review.  
Farewell, everyone, and see you next chapter, where the new day is both boring and eventful for these boys!

My wonderful roleplay partner's tumblr: bokunomarco . tumblr . c o m

My beta-reader's tumblr: arseraptor . tumblr . c o m

My tumblr: sexon3dmaneuvergear . tumblr . c o m

(remove all spaces from links provided)


End file.
